So You Think You Can Dance
by mmaemae
Summary: She tried out because she was tired of being known as a know it all. She got in because,unknown to most, she was a great dancer. He tried out because he caught dance steps better than he did the snitch. He got in because he was a Malfoy. HIATUS
1. Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I dont own any characters here, all JK Rowling's!

Prologue:

_She tried out because she was tired of being known as a bookish, boring know it all. She got in because, unbeknownst to everyone, she was a very good contemporary dancer. He tried out because he caught dance steps better than he did the snitch. He got in because he was a Malfoy.

* * *

_

"So You Think You Can Dance!" the flyer had read.

"Calling for all young dancers, wizards and witches alike, from all dance styles. If you are aged 15-21 and you think you can dance, audition now! You will stand a chance to win a grand prize 300,000 Galleons and a huge dance opportunity, which for now, will remain a secret. It will be a month long competition taking place in summer and will be broadcasted live on national television. "

Hermione Jean Granger stared at her application form, her quill poised and ready in her hand. She had just graduated Hogwarts the previous month, valedictorian and she had held the position of Head Girl. Her N.E. were all Os, she had expected no less and was bound to start her training as a Healer in 4 months time. She remembered that fateful night at the Burrow when Ginny gave her the flyer.

"You always said you could dance!" she exclaimed excitedly, "We could try out together!"

"Yeah that'd be a right laugh!" snorted Ron Weasely.

"Well, for your information Ron, I do dance! I used to do ballet as a kid and then contemporary dance as I got older," Hermione replied with a sniff. Ron had never really taken her seriously, except when it came to schoolwork. It was one of the reasons why things had not worked out between them.

"You won't do it." asserted Ron confidently. "Remember when Harry and I asked you to join us in flying to Bulgaria for Quidditch camp? _I'd rather not do that when i could be studying for my Healer training_" He mimicked. "I don't think you'd join a two month dance competition when you could be _studying_! You'd take books to fun any day," he teased.

Hermione huffed. "Well, that was Quidditch! Did it ever cross your mind that I have never played Quidditch in my life before? Anyway, I'll do it! I'll join and I'll get in and win that 300,000 Galleons! That'd show you! Anyway," she added thoughtfully " The money would be nice, to pay for my training and not rely on mum and dad."

Ron's eyes had bugged out at the mention of so much money. And Ginny had patted her on the back like the trooper she was, handed her the form and pushed her to the fireplace telling her to floo home. Which led her to where she was, sitting at her desk trying to fill up the form.

_Why do want to join So You Think You Can Dance?_

She thought for a moment. I_ want to do something new and uncharacteristic. I want to put myself out there and I want to experience this amazing opportunity._

_What can you bring to the the competition in terms of talent?_

_My versatility. I can dance contemporary, ballet and salsa_, she wrote.

_Why should we choose you?_

Hermione filled in the last blank dutifully. _I'm not afraid of hard work. I'm determined, I'm dedicated and I love dancing very much._

_

* * *

_

Draco Malfoy stared at his application form, his quill poised and ready in his hand. Unbeknownst to all, (and he hoped it stayed that way) in third year he lost a bet to Pansy Parkinson which meant he had to follow her to all her dance classes. He found that he caught dance steps better than he could ever could catch the snitch. And that he, Draco Malfoy, epitome of all things suave, macho and sexy, enjoyed it! So he continued the dance classes. Private dance classes, that is. Well, he had time to waste, a whole year before he would start working in the Ministry and he fancied the idea of himself playing the sensitive and seductive dancer on television. Might as well make use of the good looks and plentiful talent that the heavens had bestowed upon him. Besides, there would be tons of girls there. He didn't earn his reputation as the ladies man, the Slytherin Sex God back in his seventh year for nothing. He smirked, thinking of his lady fan club back at Hogwarts. And scowled, remembering how there was always one girl who failed to succumb to his charm.

"Mudblood Granger," he hissed distastefully. Granger and Weasel and The Boy Who Lived To Annoy Me. The Golden Trio, everyone called them. They overthrew Voldermort in their sixth year. Thank God he and his mother switched sides and gained Dumbledore's protection. He didn't just do it because he knew they were going to lose and his damned father got himself in Azkaban. Well, partly because of that but also because he realized The Dark Lord was a tyrant and twisted and pretty much insane. He saw how the rest of the Death Eaters were slowly driven to that same point of twisted lunacy of deriving pleasure from other's pain and despite what Potty and Weasel said, he never had really wanted that. Its just that old habits die hard. Pureblood pride and all that. He turned his attention back to the form.

_Why do want to join So You Think You Can Dance?_ Draco thought for a moment and grinned.

_Because dancer girls are hot,_ he scrawled in loopy, lazy handwriting.

_What can you bring to the the competition in terms of talent? _

He scoffed at the question. _My undeniably good looks_, he wrote.

_Why should we choose you?_

That was an easy one, Draco thought. He wrote slowly and deliberately_. _

_I'm a Malfoy._


	2. Audition

Chapter 2: Audition

Harry and Ron watched apprehensively as Ginny and Hermione stretched outside the auditioning hall. It was two weeks after the girls had submitted their applications and both had been called up to attend auditions. Ron and Harry had enthusiastically agreed to come support them. It was the least they could do, they explained, for all the times they came for their Quidditch matches back at Hogwarts, rain or shine. They were now waiting in an adjoining room to the dance hall. Girls and guys alike had came and went, some brandishing their acceptance letter like a victory flag, some leaving dejectedly and some threatening to hex the judges into oblivion despite the fact that it would obviously be, for most of them, underage magic. The number of people in the room quickly dwindled, and it seemed like Hermione and Ginny were going to be the last two to audition.

"Bloody hell, Hermione looks freaky. How can girls do splits like that," Ron muttered. Harry nodded fervently, and opened his mouth to reply when the double doors leading to the dance hall opened and the 3 judges strolled in. First was a tall regal looking wizard in midnight blue robes, his hair slightly graying. All of their eyes widened as they registered the man, Xavier Smith, a relative of the Blacks and well known for being intimidating and very hard to please. After the war, he had been taken in for questioning and it was proved that he had remained neutral during the war, and had not taken on the dark mark. The next to walk in was a young, dynamic man a little on the shorter side. Ron and Harry looked at him blankly, but Ginny and Hermione recognised him as Purvis Salvoy, a famed dancer turned show producer. Last of all, waltzing in was a slender witch with blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun.

"Fleur?" Ron was first to choke out.

"Ohhh Ron! Arry'! Oh look and Ron's leetle sister and her friend." the dazzling woman cried. Harry and Ron grinned foolishly, especially when Fleur swooped down and kissed their cheeks.

Hermione questioned, a little put out, "Fleur? You're a judge on this show?"

Before Fleur could answer, Purvis Salvoy stepped forward to shake everyone's hands heartily."Pleasure, pleasure to meet you! Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron and Ginny Weasely! What an honor to meet the Boy Who Lived, the Golden Trio and of course, to you too, Miss Weasely! How absolutely spiffing to meet all of you. I suppose you two boys aren't trying out are you, being such good Quidditch players, never had an affinity for the sport myself. Ah, Miss Granger and Miss Weasely, I was thrilled, simply thrilled when I received your applications, I knew at once you would be a wonderful addition to the show..."

Hermione frowned slightly and Ginny asked, "Mr Salvoy, we are going to audition right? Being accepted by merit-"

"Yes, Ms Weasely and Ms Granger. I daresay Ms Delacour and Mr Salvoy were getting ahead of themselves, were they not," Xavier Smith drawled, immediately drawing everyone's attention to him. "You will be auditioned, and yes you will get in by _merit_, although these two seem most eager to accept you two ladies already, I assure you I will judge you two_ impartially_ and once the competition starts, they will too." He took out his wand and waved it, and the double doors opened again, revealing a massive, regal looking hall. "Please," he waved them inside.

"Yes and we all know how fair you are. Accepting a contestant that failed to turn up for audition" Harry and Ron overheard Mr Salvoy grumble and were unpleasantly surprised. Nevertheless they wished the two girls good luck and went to sit down in the plush padded seats in the hall. Furtively, Harry tapped a wall with his wand and muttered " Specialis Revelio." He discovered that the hall was covered in Anti Cheating charms ranging from adding flexibility ones movements to a stealth sensory spell. The boys settled down just as the music started and Ginny started to dance. She performed it flawlessly and Harry and Ron straightened in pride. There was no doubt, impartiality or not, that Ginny was going to join the competition.

Backstage, Hermione was doing small plies. She listened in, Fleur and Salvoy waxing eloquent on Ginny's flowing movements and Xavier Smith's grudging acceptance of her friend. She grinned, happy for Ginny but at the same time her nerves were making her jittery and her hands were shaking. Taking deep calming breaths and translating Ancient Runes in her head, as she was wont to do when nervous, she walked onstage. She started to introduce her but Purvis Salvoy interupted her grinning. "There's no need for that is there! We know you, you know us, we can all go to Florean Fortescue's later for ice cream, which will be your last one for the duration of the competition, mind. Don't look so nervous darling, we won't eat you. Go on, go on, start!"

Hermione pointedly avoided Xavier Smith's stony expression and focused on her dancing. Her music came on and she immersed herself in the familiarity of the dance. The movements came easily to her and her body melded into the perfect expression of fluidity and sharpness. Then, the dance ended and the music slowly faded. Hermione straightened up and Fleur exclaimed "Zat was excellent! Seems to me zat we can let her in based on _merit_." Xavier ignored that pointed jab and his face remained as impassive as ever as he only nodded.

"Its settled then!" Salvoy insisted. "You're in. Now, how about some ice cream. You and Harry and Ron and Ginny can tell me about Hogwarts and how its like now! Fleur, you coming?"

"Is it appropriate for us to lunch with a judge?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Oh it isn't lunch, its past 3 and the competition hasn't started yet, so it won't pose a problem. Aren't you a right Gryffindor, with all that doing the right thing with honor and responsibility going on. I myself was in Ravenclaw... Hermione," he said fairly seriously, catching the dubious look on her face, " We are judges and you can trust we can be fair and, ahem, _impartial."_ Fleur sniggered and the three of them looked around for the third judge, but Xavier Smith, it seemed, had already taken leave of them.

"Well," Salvoy said. "He's always been a rather quiet chap, hasn't he Fleur. Not much fun to be around. Gloomy fellow. Anyway, let's go join the rest of your friends now." Hermione and Fleur followed behind as he strode ahead through the double doors muttering, "Ice cream with Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived! Harry Potter and the Golden Trio! Oh what would my mother say."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Ee' is like a leetle boy." Hermione laughed, surprised at otherwise charming and reserved witch's expression of distaste. At that moment Harry, Ron and Ginny overwhelmed her with congratulations and hugs.

Also at that moment, a good many miles away, Draco Malfoy sat, arrogant in his assurance of a place in the competition despite his failure to attend the auditions. Because although his Malfoy status and fortune could not buy happiness, it sure as hell could get him everything else.

AN: Hehe so whaddaya think! REVIEW AND TELL ME. Sorry, the next chapter will have tons more of Draco Malfoy in it. This chap was a little dull for me to write but now comes the fun stuff! Next chapter, Draco and Hermione meet in the competition!


	3. At Least The Ribbon Is Black

**Chapter 2: At Least the Ribbon Is Black**

"Ello' everyone!" Fleur Delacour spoke into her wand after casting the sonorous charm on it, ensuring that her words could be heard by all the dancers gathered. "I ope' you are excited for the first day of So You Think You Can Dance! Zis' competition will span over 7 weeks and every week you will learn and perform a dance, be it contemporary, jazz, waltz, or a type of ballroom dance, to be judged and televised."

Hermione and Ginny grinned at each other in anticipation. They had checked out the competition, and found that they knew a few of their fellow competitors and were quite suprised at who they were, namely, Parvati Patil and Blaise Zabini. They assumed that the rest of the dancers were either their juniors from Hogwarts or from other schools.

"You will dance in pairs and also you will be staying in a hotel near zis dance hall. In spare time you will also get to attend special masterclasses by famed dancers! Now, I shall introduce your judges! I am Fleur Delacour. And this is Xavier Smith." The man gave a curt nod.

"Purvis Salvoy!" Purvis stepped forward and waved and winked at the group of dancers in front of him before Fleur could say anything. "Now," he continued," lets see if we're all here." With a wave of his wand, he conjured up a list of names. His eyes narrowed and he glared at Xavier. "It seems that we have one dancer that hasn't arrived yet..."

Just then, Draco Malfoy strode into the room, clad in black robes, his blonde hair slicked back and his grey eyes exuding superiority. Ginny gasped and Hermione groaned, "We can't escape him! In Hogwarts, he's there, tormenting me for my hair and my face and for being alive and he's always flaunting his annoying fan club of every girl in Hogwarts. Now I've graduated Hogwarts and joined a dance competition, and right here, in the very last place I expect him to be, he strolls in. Does he even dance? I bet it's purely through the money-"

"I hate to interrupt your little tirade, Granger," Draco cut in, "but you are getting rather loud and I'd prefer not to spoil my hearing by having to listen to you talk. I am flattered though, that you thought my fan club consisted of every girl in Hogwarts, and yes, I do dance, and like everything else I do, I must say I'm good at it. Now you... bookish, prude Granger, a dancer? Who would have thought-".

"It seems to me," Salvoy interceded, "That you two are already acquaintances! Hogwarts, perhaps? Or dare I say, due to your seeming familiarity marred by conflict, lovers in the past?" He winked conspiratorially at the camera filming the entire exchange. Hermione sputtered, her face flaming red although she wasn't sure whether it was from anger or embarrassment. "Lovers? Me and Malfoy? No way!" Ginny put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just leave it," she murmured. "Don't let him spoil your first day!"

* * *

Draco Malfoy had no idea, as he waltzed in, fashionably late, that he would encounter the She-Weasely and Granger. He had no clue that they even danced! But he was here, and so were they, and what better way for him to make his own day than to spoil theirs? He plastered a hurt look on his face. "I'm wounded Granger, I really am. Although we may not be on the best of terms now, especially since you were the one who ended it with me because you were so sick of all the other girls swooning over me," he sighed dramatically, "It's really no reason for you to hide our relationship!"

"Malfoy!" Granger growled at him. "There. Is. No. Relationship! Get that into your thick head, you egoistical prat!" She looked pretty crazy, her face redder than he thought was humanely possible, and her hair was frizzier than usual. He loved getting a rise out of her.

"I'm so sorry to call this little spat to a halt," Salvoy said, and indeed he did look very sorry, he had been enjoying their quarrel, it would make good television, "But we do have to get a move on! We need to get you to your living quarters, and call you down into the dance studio, get you into your pairs and get you your assigned dances. You can continue fighting later. When more cameras are around. The more footage the better!"

"I'm changing my mind about him," he heard Granger mutter to the She-Weasel. "He's an annoying prick." He smirked. That much was true. He noticed that in the wake of his arrival, a buzz of chatter had begun. He looked around, sizing up the competition. He was in it to win it, of course. Holy crap! He had spotted a olive skinned, dark haired wizard.

"Blaise!" he yelled. "Merlin, what the hell are you doing here? You dance?" Blaise Zabini sauntered over to him. He wore a self satisfied look on his face. "I thought I'd see you here." Draco gaped at him in a very undignified manner. "Lost a bet to Pansy in sixth year. Had to follow her to dance class. As you did. Parkinson can't keep secrets to save her miserable life. And then I lost to Pansy again at poker and i had to follow her to audition and funnily enough I got in and she didn't. Not that I'm complaining. There's eight hot girls here and one very happy Blaise Zabini."

"You fail to notice the other 6 guys. And me. Draco Malfoy, girl magnet extraordinare." Draco put in.

"Yes, there's one girl extremely attracted to you right now," Blaise replied dryly, looking pointedly in Granger's direction. She was chatting with the redhead and some other girl that Draco remembered to be from Ravenclaw... ah Padma. Or Parvati? He could never tell the damned twins apart. Not that he bothered anyway.

"Attention!" Draco turned around at the voice of his distant uncle, Xavier Smith. It was thanks to him that Draco had gotten in without having to trouble himself with an audition. "I will now activate the Portkey that will take us to The Ritz. Gather round this chair." The contestants crowded around, there was just enough space for the 16 dancers and the 3 judges. Smith tapped the chair with his wand. "Portus." The chair glowed and everyone reached in and mangaged to touch a part of the chair. Then there was the familiar jerking behind the navel and the world dissolved in a rush of color and sound.

* * *

Hermione stumbled and caught herself. She had almost knocked into...her eyes travelled upwards and met cold grey ones. She jerked backwards. "Malfoy!"

"I would have you know that I'm not to thrilled either, Granger, you're the muddiest filth of them all. And yet, you just can't keep your hands off me can you." he drawled lazily.

"And yet, you just can't be civil, can you, ferret boy." Hermione retorted hotly before turning her back on him and walking away. Ugh! Something about Malfoy just riled her so. She looked around at her surroundings and found that she was in what seemed like a living room. The walls were painted in a creamy light blue colour and the place was decorated tastefully with paintings and lightings. Comfortable white sofas and side tables were placed in the middle of the room, and underneath was a navy blue carpet.

"Zis' is zee meeting place. Whenever we call a gathering of sorts, eet will be here." Fleur explained. She gestured toward the door at the left side of the room. "Zis will lead you to zee hallway where your rooms are situated. Zee door on that side will lead you to the lobby, where you can find your way to the dance studios, the dining hall and the auditorium." The contestants nodded eagerly.

"Now we are going to tell you who you will be rooming with," continued Purvis Salvoy cheerfully. "Your rooms are guarded by portraits, just like it is in Hogwarts. You will be able to set the password once you get there. I will start with the ladies... Parvati and Selma. Your portrait is that of a french lady walking 4 dogs. Iris and Kate. Your portrait is one of a mermaid. Ferine and Galinda, your portrait is one of a knight. Ginny and Hermione. Your portrait is one of a englishwoman at tea."

Hermione gave Ginny a triumphant grin. They would be roomies! Purvis went onto the boys and Hermione dully noted that Draco was rooming with Blaise. Stupid gits.

"Now you will find out who is your dancing partner." Xavier Smith told them. "Take a ribbon." In his hands was a bunch of black ribbons. There was a muttering of _Accio Ribbon_ and everyone found themselves holding a one. Hermione held hers in her hand and she slowly saw a name being written in gold letters. Sean Finnegan. She breathed a sigh of relief. She knew Sean, he was Seamus Finnegan's older brother and he had graduated two years earlier. Looking around, she spied him and beamed and he grinned back. She turned to ask Ginny who she got. Ginny handed over her ribbon silently. In elegant, gold script, was spelled out the name Draco Malfoy.

Salvoy smiled benignly at all of them. "Don't worry, there will be time to meet and get to know your partner later! Off to you rooms now, freshen up and dress in your dance attire and be back here when your ribbon glows! Do remember to always keep the ribbon on your person, it will be our method of communication. Tie it to you hand or something." He didn't miss the scandalized looks of most of the boys. "Don't look so dismal, fellows,"he called out. "At least the ribbon is black."


	4. That Conceited Inconsiderate Brat

**phantasyphoenix**: thanks! Yeah i was sad not pairing them up too but i think it'll be cool to see them compete against each other for awhile! **unicorngirl14, TheFlyingCat, TtoboggI, Poppy Quinn,** Thanks for the reviews:D

**A/N**: The story is not gonna be compliant from the sixth book onwards. Sorry, it fit my storyline better to have the war occur in the sixth year so I tweaked everything a bit!

* * *

**Chapter 3: That. Conceited. Inconsiderate. Brat. Malfoy**

Hermione put her hand supportively around Ginny's shoulder as the walked down the hallway to their room. The hallway was covered in different portraits that were the size of doors, framed in ornate gold. However, the luxury escaped both girls due to the crisis at hand.

"Malfoy! Ferret Boy and Git-of-the-Year. How on earth are we ever going to get along, let alone dance together!" Ginny complained, glaring murderously down at her black ribbon as if she could scare it into writing another person's name.

Hermione nodded understandingly. She knew all to well that feeling of being saddled with Malfoy. Back in seventh year, the ferret also had been given the dubious honor of being Head Boy alongside with her. Needless to say, he wasn't exactly jumping for joy. In fact, he did the bare minimum and made her life a living hell. "You'll be able to deal with him. I bet Malfoy wants to win just as bad at you do, so he won't be that much of a prat if it means he might get kicked out first round. And you could always hit the coward with one of your infamous Bat Boogey Hexes that scared the living daylights out of him in Umbridge's office back in our fifth year . Anyway, isn't that our portrait?"

They were in front of a woman dressed in an dusky blue beaded empire waisted gown, seated beside an iron wrought table in a garden. The painting was so lifelike, even by wizarding standards. Hermione felt as if, if she walked forwards, instead of hitting something solid, she would actually join that beautiful woman and partake of the delicious looking tea and biscuits. The woman's black curls were swept into an elegant updo that was held in place by a silver comb. She blinked, her large green eyes standing out against her pale skin. Lifting her teacup, she nodded graciously to them. "Good day, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasely."

The girls smiled. "Well, good day to you too," Hermione replied. She nudged the redhead beside her. "Earth to Ginny! What shall be our password?"

After conferring with each other, Ginny leaned forward to whisper the password to the portrait. "The Amazing Bouncing Ferret." She grinned vindictively, as if by insulting Malfoy through the password to her room, she was exacting some terrible, life altering revenge. She collapsed into giggles, soon to be joined by Hermione. The lady in the portrait looked snootily down at them, but the twinkle in her eyes betrayed her reluctant amusement. "I will not even try to understand." Then the portrait swung forward, and Hermione and Ginny stepped into their room. It was very modern and new, nothing like what both girls had at home. Along one wall were twin beds with fluffy sky blue duvets and pillows, each bed with a bedside table. Their trunks were stacked in a corner. They had a dresser each, and in the corner was a white sofa, designed with swirls of blue and trimmed with gold. Along the other wall was a long stretch of mirror, and there was a lot of empty space, which the girls assumed for practicing in the privacy of their own rooms. Hermione peeked into the bathroom and her eyes lit up with delight. Besides a shower and a nice bathroom counter, there was a large luxurious clawed foot tub. She walked briskly back out to her trunk and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, noting that Ginny was sprawled across her bed, face buried in the pillows. She smothered a laugh and went to change.

As she left the bathroom, she felt a curious warm sensation on her arm. She looked down and saw that the black ribbon was glowing, and there was more writing on it. _Protean Charm_, she thought. She had performed it herself in her fifth year. She lifted the ribbon up to eye level. It read "Meeting Place, 3.30". A quick look at the clock told her she had about 5 minutes left. "Ginny!" she called out. "You ready?"

Ginny was standing by the portrait hole, dressed similarly in a tank top, but wearing black tights instead. "Ages before you were," she teased. "Let's go!"

The pair climbed out and saw that several others were making their way out too. Hermione spotted her partner, Sean. Ginny saw who she was looking at and waved her ahead. "S'okay. Go ahead and get to know your partner! He already has one thing going for him." She grimaced. "He's not Malfoy."

"More's the pity," an all too familiar voice put in assertively. The golden haired boy brushed past them wearing grey sweatpants and a tight, form fitting black T-shirt. Hermione stiffened at the contact. Once he was out of earshot, Ginny gave a low whistle. "If he wasn't such a git, I would totally go for him. Did you see his abs? Such a looker. Utter gorgeousness-"

"Whoa, hold your horses there girl! 5 minutes ago, you were moaning and groaning at your misfortune." Hermione interrupted.

Ginny gave a wolfish grin, an abrupt change of mood from earlier. "I know, I'm completely torn." Hermione noted she didn't look torn in the least. Not even the littlest bit. It bothered her somewhat. "He's a horrible, Slytherin, pureblooded prick...but so unbelievably good looking," she continued. "If i have to dance with a ferret, at least he's a hunk of a ferret." Catching the look on Hermione's face, she held up her hands, "Hey, I'm just kidding. I still don't like him, and I wouldn't go for him either, so he's all yours!"

"What? What did you say?" Hermione sputtered.

"I said, he's all yours, Malfoy's not my type anyway," Ginny waggled her eyebrows ridiculously.

"Yeah, but Harry is right?" Hermione cut in, and seeing Ginny's cheeks tinge red, satisfied herself with the knowledge that she had gotten the last word and strode ahead to talk to Sean.

* * *

Draco stood with the rest of the contestants in the Meeting Place. Meeting Place, what a stupid name. So juvenile, so common. He was distracted from his thoughts when a petite, pretty witch walked into the room. "Hello everybody, I'm Elphie! Follow me, I'll take you to the dance studio." Without pausing she, walked out again. After hesitating, the group trailed after her. She began to talk as she led them through the lobby and down a winding hallway.

"Once you know your way to the studios, you'll be able to apparate there. Even though the competition is open to witches and wizards above fifteen, we seem to have no underaged wizards here! So there will be no issue of underage magic to worry about. Okay, we'll start off with round of introductions then I'll be leading you folks in warm up, a bit of contemporary, and you'll be dancing in your pairs. After that we'll introduce you to your choreographers for your first routine, your performance will be on friday. You'll work a bit more, and then you'll be up for dinner and you'll have free time after that. I'm the host for the show, by the way. Just a note on how the voting will be done, for now, you'll be voted off in pairs, then after awhile, we'll switch things up a bit and it'll be one boy and one girl, not necessarily from the same pair. Luckily for you guys, since most of you dance contemporary, we decided to ease you into the competition and all your routines will be modern dance. This will be the first and the last time. After that, it'll be all salsa and rumba and waltzing and maybe, just maybe hip hop to spice things up a bit, and other types of dance, you get what i mean." She turned behind and beamed energetically.

Her hair was midnight blue in colour and it framed her young, pretty face in a pixie cut. Draco noticed she was wearing a leotard and a pair of shorts. He also observed that most of the males found her deeply attractive. Many of the guys were blatantly staring. He smirked. They were so _obvious,_ lacking finesse and charm. "If you could attract a decent woman you only met 5 minutes ago by staring at her ass then I would be a flobberworm," he muttered to Blaise, who snickered. They had reached the dance studio, a large dome shaped area with mirrors stretching the entire length of the place.

Elphie clapped her hands twice. "This may be seem slightly juvenile to some of you," she looked pointedly at the sniggering Draco and Blaise, "But lets gather round in a circle and introduce ourselves. I'll start. I'm Elphie. I'm 26 years old and I was homeschooled so I didn't attend Hogwarts or Beauxbatons like most of you. I major in contemporary dance."

The group formed a circle and the a leggy, stick thin blonde stepped up to introduce herself. "Hello, I'm Iris LeFay. My mother is british, my father french. I'm 18 years old and i just graduated from Beauxbatons. I major in ballet, but I also dance jazz. My partner is Blaise." She smiled charmingly at all of them, her gaze lingering in the very general direction of Draco, Blaise and the tall, black haired dancer on their right.

The dancers took their turns and Draco paid scant attention, such that he could not put the name to the face for a couple of dancers. He rolled his eyes at the reaction that Hermione and Ginny elicited during their brief introductions. War heroes indeed. However he did manage to recall the black haired guys name, apparently he was Sean Finnegan, another self righteous ex-Gryffindor and Hermione's partner. He took an instant dislike to the man. Blaise, said a few short sentences, then it was his turn. Without smiling, without softening the look in his steely gray eyes, he drew himself up to full height and gazed at the bunch of dancers. "I'm Draco Malfoy. I'm eighteen and I was from Hogwarts, Slytherin. My partner is Wea-Ginny. I dance contemporary and salsa."

After introductions were finished, Elphie instructed them to break up into their pairs. He stayed where he was, and watched Ginny stride over to him quickly. She appraised him coldly. "Malfoy."

He inclined his head, "Weaslette." After a pregnant pause, Ginny broke the silence. "Look here, you don't like me and I don't really fancy you either. But I propose we try to get along as long as we dance together, because Merlin,I swear if you screw me over in this competition, I'll hex you to China and back."

Draco allowed himself a smirk. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, carrot top."

Ginny had to satisfy herself with his vague consent.

Hermione, on the other hand, was getting along with Sean very well. He was a friendly, funny, and a gentleman in every respect. However they hardly had anytime to talk, because Elphie quickly set them warming up with stretches and such. Soon after she gave them a short routine to learn, full of jumps and twists and turns. She had to focus entirely on perfecting the steps and getting them down pat. Sean seemed to be getting along fine, no sign of difficulty whatsoever. It seemed to Hermione only a minute had passed when Elphie called out "Alright dancers! Time to dance it out. Split up, half of you on this corner of the studio and on the other side, the other half of you. You will dance in tandem with your partner, one pair from each corner will go at once and cross each other so you will end up at opposite ends of the studio." She waited for about 30 seconds then tapped her wand on the wall nearest to her. "Ah five, six, seven eight!"

Iris and Blaise and Selma and Josh started them off, and Hermione watched anxiously. It would be her turn soon. She looked at the other row of dancers and carefully counted...oh! She was going to be with Ginny and...Malfoy. Well, she'd show him! Looking behind her to give Sean an encouraging look, she prepared herself, listening to Elphie's counting. Trying not to over analyse her movements, she started off with a running leap, followed by a grand jete. She felt herself move in perfect time with Sean. They made a great pair, dancing so well together and-"OUCH! MALFOY!"

Draco Malfoy had lept in front of her, obvious over-estimating the distance he would travel, and crashed right into her. Both of them landed in a tangled heap on the floor. "Granger!" he growled. "Can you not dance in a straight line? Or were you too busy dreaming about your boyfriends Saint Potter and Weasel." Not the best insult ever, but the most he could come up with after getting the wind knocked out of him. Elphie called out "Are you alright? Anything sprained, broken?" They both groaned in response. "Okay then! Up, up, up, we don't have all day!"

Hermione sat up, flushed. She glared at Draco who was still lying flat on the floor, one of his legs thrown over hers. "This is all your fault," she accused, jabbing her finger at his chest. Draco couldn't help but notice at such close proximity that she had rather pretty facial features, and she did posses, well, other deeply attractive bodily qualities. Hey, he knew how to appreciate a girl. Hermione was still venting. "I was minding my own business, haven't even done a thing to you since the competition started, kept our contact to the minimum, but you still have to go out and knock me down in our very first session-"

"Just keep talking, Granger. I'm starting to think that you're enjoying the position you're in now. If only you had told me back in Hogwarts, I could have had you long ago." he remarked indifferently.

"Do us all a favour and keep your crude comments to yourself," she hissed, her cheeks flaming brilliant red. "Quit being so crass." Hermione pushed herself up and stalked away.

The rest of the class progressed without a hitch. Elphie smiled at sweating, tired and limp dancers. "Well done! Now, I will introduce you to your choreographers." She tripled tapped the mirror and slowly, in sections, the names of the pairs appeared along the wall. "Just tap your wand on your section and say your name, and you'll be able to enter your own private learning areas. Have fun!"

Heaving a sigh, the dancers lumbered towards their sections, muttering spells to refresh their tired bodies. However, one of the dancers was still full of energy. "That. Conceited. Inconsiderate. Brat. Malfoy!" Hermione fumed.


	5. A Little More Refined With the Ladies

**Chapter 4: Just A Little More Refined With The Ladies**

Sean and Hermione walked leisurely up to the panel that had their names scripted on it. As Sean drew his wand to tap the glass, Hermione caught Ginny's eye. Her sprightly red head friend pulled a face and mouthed, "Wish me luck!" before pivoting on her left foot to glare at Malfoy who was lingering behind with Blaise and Iris. "Hurry up, Ferret!" she yelled, her voice echoing around the studio. Everyone turned around to stare, and Ginny had the grace to look properly abashed. "Sorry, didn't mean to yell."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and stopped walking altogether. "Weasley, best you learn this now. I'm a Malfoy. I don't bloody take orders. You'd be better off thinking twice before shouting at me again."

Ginny looked ready to argue but Elphie intervened. "I know you all may be tired from warm up but time is of the essence. No more idle chatter, go on!" She flapped her hands in a shooing motion and everyone resumed what they were doing previously. Hermione drew her wand to tap on the mirror. "Hermione Granger," she said, feeling a little silly and self conscious. The panel of mirror shuddered, the slid aside, revealing a similar, albeit smaller, dance studio. Hermione shared a companionable grin with Sean as they walked in.

"Welcome, Sean and Hermione! We'll be your choreographers for the week. I'm Melina and he's Mark," a cheerful voice said. Both looked around, trying to identify the speaker, but saw nobody.

She glanced at Sean, he looked as confused as she did. "Uhh..."

"No clue." Sean shrugged in return. Searching the room once more he called out, "Who's there? I'm sorry sir, but we can't seem to see you."

Hermione had been casting her gaze around the room and suddenly she realised who the mysterious speaker was. "Sean, look! Over there!" She pointed her finger to one end of the room, where a life-sized portrait stood, taking up half of the entire wall. The background of the portrait was mirror-like, so no wonder the pair hadn't noticed it earlier. It depicted a man leotard and tights and a woman, dressed similarly. They nodded and waved at their dumbstruck students.

"Will you...will you be teaching us?" Sean ventured.

"Yes, of course we'll be teaching you," the woman, Melinda, answered, laughing.

"But you're, you're pictures." Hermione stated, confused. Sean nodded his head in agreement

"You two _are _wizards, aren't you. Yes, we are pictures. But we move, we speak, we dance!"

The man chimed in. "We're taking this competition cum learning experience to a whole new level! You now will have to 'watch and learn', literally! No more teachers to position your legs and arms, well, of course if it gets to difficult for you we'll call in Elphie. But we want to stretch your capabilities as dancers. See how well you learn without that extra bit of guidance."

Witch and wizard didn't know what to say.

"Apparently, they're at loss for words," said Melinda.

"Perhaps, they doubt our talent," Mark suggested.

"Well, let's show them a thing or two!"

Out of nowhere, music began playing, a modern slower remix of a pop song. Mark and Melinda began to dance, a moderately paced dance, filled with accentuated movements, graceful extensions of arms and legs and intense looks between partners. Often, Mark would sweep Melinda off her feet and into the air in different positions, effortlessly performing these lifts. Hermione was enraptured by the dance and the obvious chemistry between the two. The dance ended with Melinda executing a perfect series of chaines turns right into Mark's arms, with their faces dangerously close to each other, eyes locked, lips a hair's breadth away.

"Amazing," she heard Sean breathe beside her.

Melinda swept into a elegant curtsy. "Glad you think so." Her eyes twinkled. "So lets get to work!"

Sean and Hermione quickly learnt the first quarter of the dance, and both were having fun. At first they felt a tad uncomfortable at being in such close proximity with each other. Melinda and Mark had insisted that they make it believable, even if it was only the first practice. So they had to gaze deeply into each other's eyes as they wrapped their bodies sinuously around each other. Sean had quickly come up with a funny, yet practical solution.

"You have to make believe," he said earnestly to Hermione. "We can take on alter egos, of sort. Pretend that I'm... Stephen and you're Hermy-" Hermione had to stifle a laugh at that point as she vividly remembered a certain giant who had called her that back in fifth year. Sean saw her expression and misinterpreted it. "I know, Hermy's a really silly name but that's beside the point! Just pretend you're someone else, we're in some parallel universe, and we're madly in love. And when the dance is over, I'll be Sean and you'll be Hermione. Isn't that what dancing is, anyway? When you're dancing, you take yourself away."

Hermione nodded. Dancing never failed to whisk all her problems away. "Alright, let's try out your suggestion."

Melinda and Mark approved of Sean's idea. Although the two worked well together, the choreographers had observed that they had no chemistry. They were good dancers, their technique was impeccable, but they were lacking passion.

"Yeah, give it a shot," Melinda smiled encouragingly at the young witch and wizard.

Hermione shut her eyes and envisioned herself as Hermy, a bold, beautiful, passionate woman, madly in love with Stephen. She fell into Stephen's arms with ease and they moved in perfect precision. "Better," Mark commended. And things went rather smoothly after that.

* * *

The same could not be said for Draco, however. He had a rather rude shock from discovering that their choreographers were, shocker! Portraits! And then he had to come to terms to the fact he would have to dance passionately with the Little Weasel. They hadn't bickered at all though, because Weasley had kept her mouth firmly shut throughout the time of which they learnt a bit of choreography. Now the dreaded moment had arrived. They had to dance- together. Merlin help him. He must have grimaced or something, because Weaslette snapped at him.

"I'm sorry its so distasteful an experience to dance with me, but please bear with it and not make that face on the actual day of competition, or we will be out of the running before you can say ferret."

Draco was honestly affronted. He was a Malfoy, and no face he ever made could be anything less than attractive. He informed her on this.

"I suppose you think you're God's gift to women then," she laughed.

"You bet your blood traitor ass I am." He said it with a smirk and a twinkle in his eye, so she would know he wasn't trying to be insulting. Lucky for Weasley, he was in a damn good mood. Maybe it had something to do with Granger being all over him in dance class. He mentally shook himself to clear his head. Consorting with blood traitors and mudbl-muggleborns. The only way he could top that was if he confessed his secret love for Potter.

Ginny chuckled, startling him out of his reverie. " Come on God's gift to womankind, let's get this bloody thing over with." She gestured with her hands to invite him over.

"Ooh, little Weasley said a baaaad word," he mocked.

"And you're gonna hear a lot more," Ginny was quick to reply. And even quicker to add, "Don't think I'm flirting with you, blonde, snobby and elitist aren't exactly qualities I prize in a guy."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and stalked over. The music started to play, a strong, fast paced beat, and he took up his position. Weaslette took up hers. And so, they danced.

* * *

The tired, hungry, yet satisfied dancers trooped into the dining hall and took their seats. Parvati, Ginny and Hermione selected a windowside table. Sliding into their seats, they peered at their menus, deciding on ordering simple dishes, loading up on carbs and green vegetables. After speaking their orders to the table, they shared rueful grins. "No more ice creams and cauldron cakes for awhile," Parvati said, speaking what was on everyone's minds. They enjoyed a few minutes of casual conversation before the food appeared on their tables, replacing their menus.

"The house elves are pretty fast," Ginny remarked, and noticing Hermione readying herself to launch into a speech about house elves and rights, she quickly picked up a forkful of pasta and shoved it into Hermione's mouth. Parvati giggled, and the girls enthusiastically dug in, ravenous from a strenuous day of dance. After sating her hunger, Parvati decided to get down to business.

"So...how was it?" she asked Ginny cheekily.

"How was what?"

"Dancing with Draco Malfoy! It must have been heaven, being up and close to his toned body and gorgeous face."

Hermione barely avoided choking on her mouthful of pasta. Ginny enthusiastically patted her on her back, a little too hard for her liking, as she answered. "Well, I can't deny he is deeply attractive, but he's not really my type. Actually, he really wasn't that bad, no seriously Hermione, don't look at me like that. He's actually a very witty guy. Snarky, but funny too. Not half as bad as I thought he would be."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah and I'm the Prince of Egypt."

Parvati ignored her and gushed, "See, i told you! You guys were totally prejudiced when we were in Hogwarts. He's the most attractive man on the planet, and every woman's dream come true."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "I do believe he would agree with you on that." And then she chortled to herself.

Draco, Blaise and Iris happened to pass by their table and Draco overheard snatches of conversation. He smirked. Granger was still as stubborn as ever, refusing to accept that there was a nicer side to the Prince of Slytherin. But apparently, he had won over Weasley, and of course Parvati had always been his own personal cheerleader, even back at Hogwarts. He imagined her going round the red and gold Gryffindor common room trying to convince everyone Draco was not the evil bastard he was always described as by Potty and Weasel.

Of course, he was still the same evil Slytherin bastard. Just a little more refined with the ladies.

* * *

**A/N:** Next up, the first round of competition:D I have likened their performances to certain past ones on So You Think You Can Dance. I'll let you know which dancers they are and post up the links on my profile! Read and Review, thanks!


	6. Round One

**Nicconicc**o-Thanks for the review! Hehe I'm very glad you like it:D **Elwynn-no-Hime**- Woohoo you love it too! Thanks manymany. yeah i was trying to do a DHR storyline that not many people have done yet so yeah.

Also much thanks to **Crazy Obsessed Writer52** and **Beccasucks** for your advice and following of my little story! So here we go:D

* * *

**Chapter 5. Round One**

The dancers quickly fell into a routine. Breakfast was served from 8am-10.30am and it was up to everyone when they wanted to take their meals. They would have time to either work out or do stretching and pilates from 10.00-1.00, it was all free reign, and after that they had lunch. At 2.00 dance class commenced and after which they practiced and learned their choreography. There would be dinner at 7.30 and after that it was up to the competitors to use their time. On the second day of dance class, wizarding cameras came round to get some footage, and they were informed they would be filmed while working on their performances. It had most of the dancers quite unnerved but they quickly got used to the idea. Also, owls arrived sporadically, bearing letters from Ron and Harry. They read as such:

_Hey Mione'! _

_We're in Bulgaria now, learning new tricks and stuff from Krum, your ol' pal. The idiot says hi and wants you to write to him. I wouldn't have put this in but Harry made me. He threatened to fly my broomstick all the way to Hogsmeade and into the Whomping Willow- some mate. I for one am stunned that Krum could manage something other than a grunt though. Quidditch Camp is good fun, most of the chaps here are seriously skilled. Like our friend Harry who got himself hit by a bludger on the second day. Anyway, say, Malfoy dances? Who would've thought. The Great Bouncing Ferret has amazed us all once again. If he provokes you, slap him. And if he doesn't provoke you, slap him. __Will watch for you on the telly-Ron_

_Hermione!_

_How're you doing over there? Just so you know, the bludger was rogue one. Busted up my arm but it healed pretty quick! Ron's having the time of his life here. It's like how he looked when we went to Zonkos for the first time, times twenty. He won himself a Silvershot 360 at Wizards Chess and now no one wants to play him anymore. Blaise and Malfoy? At your dance competition? Will wonders never cease. If only we knew that back in Hogwarts. Imagine with me. Instead of "twitchy little ferret", it could have been "twitchy little ferret in a pink tutu". The possibilities are staggering. Krum says hi, just in case Ron failed to mention it. Owl me if he didn't, forget the darn broom, I'll throw him into the whomping willow.-Harry_

Time flew by and the days melded toether, and before anyone could say sherbert lemon, Round One of So You Think You Can Dance had arrived. While Draco and Ginny remained tolerant of each other, the same could not be said for Sean and Hermione, who grew progressively closer. Working on the choreography had bonded them together and Hermione had grown to rely a lot on Sean. He was like an older brother to her in many ways, and though Sean was not a passionate elf-rights activist, they still had so much in common. In learning from each other's dancing style and technique, they improved by leaps and bounds. Draco spent much of his time with Iris and Blaise. He never really saw them dance, except during classes, and he had observed that while Blaise had strong, energetic movements, he was all over the place and his technique was somewhat lacking. Iris however, had perfect form but in Draco's opinion, she never really showed much emotion. He would know. The lady showed a whole darn lot of emotion around him, coming on to him in a coquettish, coy manner that rather irritated him, reminding him very much of a certain pug faced Parkinson back in Hogwarts. Blaise was quite reticent about private matters, so they three of them never discussed the war, or their personal life, but harped on about inconsequential things and good looking girls in the competition, which included the She-Weasel and Granger, much to Draco's dismay. More than being his ex-schoolmate nemesis, Granger especially reminded him of parts of the war he'd rather forget. Blaise, on the other hand, had pretty much every reason to detest him for the traitor he was. Zabini's father had been a Death Eater that was killed in the war. However Blaise proved willing to befriend him despite his defiance to the Dark Lord, for reasons not privy to him. Draco simply assumed that Blaise's father had been slimeball and Blaise had no affection for him whatsoever. Just like Draco.

* * *

Hermione stood at her dressing table backstage. They had been in the 2,000 seater auditorium since morning, hurrying through last minute run throughs and preparations. After a quick tea, they had to rush backstage to get dressed and apply their make up. Hermione liked her costume, although it showed a tad too much skin for her taste. It was a white silky spaghetti strap dress, low cut to show a hint of cleavage and stopped mid thigh. She wore white boy shorts underneath. Well, at least she could be grateful her outfit was not like Ginny's, who was standing beside her scantily clad in a dark red strapless crop top and boy shorts, with red ribbon wrapped artistically around her chest to her waist.

"Stop turning around," Ginny snapped. "How am I supposed to apply your eyeshadow when you keep wriggling like a flobberworm in Hagrid's hut?"

Hermione sighed impatiently and turned around, closing her eyes. "I could jolly well have used magic to do all this. They have tons of useful spells in Witches Weekly."

"I didn't even know you read Witches Weekly," Ginny snorted. "And all that is rubbish. Why use magic when you have me?"

Hermione could think of several good reasons but she chose smartly not to voice them. Instead, she ran through her routine in her head, over and over and over until Ginny pronounced her finished and turned her attentions onto herself. She looked around, most of the girls had chosen to apply their make up and do their hair through magic, except Ginny, Iris and herself. Seeing that Selma, one of the nicer, less snide girls and one heck of a ballroom dancer, had a bit of trouble taming her frizzy strawberry blond hair, Hermione was about to go over and offer to lend a hand when Sean appeared.

"Absolutely stunning," he complimented, taking her by the shoulders and spinning her round in a circle.

"You don't look too bad yourself, you lady killer, you," Hermione replied in what she hoped was a offhand, teasing tone of voice, because she secretly was feeling rather self conscious.

"Well, one tries." Sean bowed gallantly, dressed in loose off white pants and an unbuttoned white shirt.

Draco and Blaise swept past them condescendingly, muttering a few choice insults. The blonde, clad in black tights and bare chested, appraised Hermione with cold eyes and his lips twisted into a sneer.

Once they had passed Sean whispered, "What's up with Malfoy? I thought the coward copped out and joined our side, so why does he still act like he's got a massive stick up his ass?"

Considering her words carefully, Hermione answered, "Well, it's either that he was an incredible coward or extremely courageous. I actually thought it made him rather brave to defy You-Know-Who. Not many people who have seen the darkness dare to walk towards the light." She frowned thoughtfully. "But sometimes I have to wonder. He still behaves pretty much the same, and was insulting and unbearable towards Harry, Ron and me even though we fought on the same side. Didn't make many friends in the Order, needless to say. I picked up some discrepancies in his character though. He has refrained from refering to me as Mudblood for one but I'm not sure whether it's cause he was afraid of Mad Eye or he had finally got off his high horse. And while he remains quite the arrogant prick, he's not that much of a cruel bully anymore. Most of the Slytherins dropped out in the seventh year because of the fall of You Know Who, so Draco wasn't really shunned or anything and the other houses soon proffered their grudging acceptance because despite it all Draco fought valiantly for us in the war. In fact he established a sort of shaky friendship with some of the ones from Ravenclaw. And us Gryffindors never really got all chummy with him but it was all right."

"You certainly have a lot to say about this! Thinking of the blonde haired git a lot huh?" Sean teased.

Hermione glared at him. "No way! He's taunted me for half my life."

"And for that I am truly sorry," Sean said honestly. "You're a marvelous witch."

Hermione smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. You're heaping on the charm this evening aren't you. Save it for the judges, mister."

"Yes, ma'am!" Sean offered her his arm and both strode off for the last minute briefing before the show started.

After a quick summary of what was going to happen from Elphie, and getting the order of which they would be performing, everyone sat nervously in the waiting room behind in the wings, stretching and warming up. They could hear the people filing in and then Elphie hosting the entire thing. The judges was introduced, Salvoy recieving much applause, Fleur getting wolf whistled the rowdy crowd and Xavier Smith was given respectful acknowledgement. The first couple, Selma and Micheal were called up. A short video played, but Hemione and the rest of them had already gotten to see it during full dress. Hermione cringed, remembering her video. It had shown her squealing like a five year old as Sean lifted her and the very embarrassing footage of them calling each other by Stephen and Hermy. Ginny's clip had shown her and Draco arguing all the way to kingdom come and subsquently dancing sensously with each other. Then both had quickly assured the camere it was just "for show". Blaise and Iris had been draped all over each other during their turn, no one who didn't know would have guessed that Iris had eyes only for Draco.

Selma and Micheal performed their piece and were subjected to a rousing round of applause and comments from the three judges that landed them in the "quite good" category. Hermione knew though, as the the show progressed, "quite good" wouldn't cut it. Selma and Micheal joined them in the waiting room and everyone gave them a pat on the back for a job well done. It was Ginny's and Draco's turn. Hermione stood and gave her a big hug.

"You can do it!" she encouraged, taking her friend's hands in hers and squeezing them gently. Ginny looked pale and seemed like she couldn't walk out of the room, let alone dance. Hermione decided to opt for a different approach.

"Just imagine Malfoy is Harry," she said airly, and winked. It worked. Ginny's cheek flooded with colour and she growled at Hermione.

"Thank a lot, 'Mione!"

Unfortunately, Draco had overheard. "Potter huh? Potty and Little Red." He came up and slung his hand carelessly across Ginny's shoulder. Hermione looked at him scathingly and Ginny had no idea who to kill first, Hermione or Draco.

"Hands off, Malfoy," she ground out and then stalked out of the room.

"Had to get her in the zone somehow." Hermione muttered.

"Better you rile her up than me."

Hermione was startled at the sound of Malfoy's voice, devoid of the usual malice. She willed her brain to think of a reply but all she said was, "You should go."

Malfoy nodded curtly, spun on his heel and exited the room stiffly. Hermione saw him run his hand through is blonde hair, in a manner that seemed nervous and agitated. She couldn't help but smile. Guess Malfoy was human after all.

Judging from the reaction from the audience, Ginny's and Malfoy's clip evoked much amusement and laughter. Hermione wondered what Harry and Ron would make of it. She heard the music from Ginny's and Malfoy's piece come on and she watched the live feed on the small television screen. Ginny was fantastic as usual. Malfoy was elegant and sensuous in his movements, it was a slow, passionate, dance, much like Hermione's and very different from say, Selma's which was a more lively piece.

The judges gave them good reviews, including Smith, who was reluctant in doling out praise. He even cracked a hint of a smile at Draco. The audience No wonder, they were distant relatives. Anyone related to a Malfoy is physically incapable of smiling properly. Ginny and Malfoy flounced back into the room and Ginny had a beaming from ear to ear.

"Did you see me Mione! It was amazing! The whole experience was like, an out of body kinda thing!" Her previous grievance at Hermione for blurting out the H-word seemed forgotten and for that Hermione was grateful because it was her turn. Sean put his hands around her shoulder and casting a grin at the vivacious Ginny, apologised, "Sorry to steal her from you Ginny, but it's our turn!"

Sean and Hermione waited anxiously in the wings, stealing glances at each other. Their video clip had started and the audience seemed to find it funny too, laughing at the "Stephen and Hermy alter ego" part.

"Ready, Hermy?" Sean asked her.

"As I'll ever be," replied Hermione, executing a perfect arabesque. The lights dimmed, their cue to get into position. She hurried out, her heart hammering in her chest and casting about frantically in her brain, she found she couldn't remember her steps! Taking a deep breathe, she imagined herself as Hermy, bold, beautiful, and madly in love with Stephen. The music started and she opened her eyes and danced right into Stephen's waiting arms. They moved together, in tandem, their bodies twisting and turning and spinning around each other in a gentle cloud of white. They were lost in movement, lost in each other. The music faded, and Stephen and Hermy ceased to be. Hermione distangled herself from Stephen's arms, and smiled ruefully. Sean grabbed her hand and they walked forward together. Elphie grinned at the pair and handed the time over to the judges. Fleur went first.

"Zat' was wonderful, darling. Amazing! Your technique eez impeccable, both of you. I was impressed. However I thought zat' you two could dance more...together...more as one. You lack, what is the word?"

"Chemistry," Smith replied curtly. "Good dancing, but I think that the two of you lack chemistry."

"And I think the two of them, are bonkers. Sean, Hermione, you guys were simply stupendous." Salvoy enthusiastically put in to the agreement of the audience.

"Well," Elphie laughed and looked straight at the camera, "The judges had their say, but it's your turn to vote! If you want Sean and Hermione to go on to the next round, owl in your votes!"

Exiting to a round of thunderous applause, Hermione felt as if she was walking on air. Ginny was right. To dance and to dance well, was a sensational feeling. She entered the waiting room, and Ginny was the first to congratulate her, throwing her arms around her and squealing excitedly. The rest of the evening passed by in a blur, dancers going in and out of the waiting room, some coming back with broad grins, Blaise and Iris included, and others with disappointed looks and a few shed tears. Finally, all the owls were in and the results were tallied. They were called out to center stage where the first elimination round began.

Hermione was a bundle of nervous, clutching Ginny's and Sean's hands. They stood on either side of her as Elphie talked with a solemn face about how the votes were in and how one person was about to leave the competition.

"If I call your name please step out. Selma and Micheal. Ginny and Draco. Kate and Marcus. Iris and Blaise. Hermione and Sean."

Hermione stepped out of the line with the rest, her face a mask of calm but her tummy was host to a multitude of butterflies.

"If I have called your name, you are safe."

With an audible sigh of relief, Hermione walked to the left side of the stage with the other few pairs, sharing a triumphant look with Sean and Ginny. Next time she'd top it.

"Those of you who remain are the ones with the highest, and lowest scores. Galinda and Wesley," Elphie paused for dramatic effect, "You two have managed to garner the highest amount of votes, congratulations."

Their faces lit up and they gave each other a big bear hug. Hermione watched them and felt genuine happiness on their behalf. They worked really hard in class.

However as Elphie started speaking again, the mood once again shifted to serious and solemn. Ginny and Hermione felt very apprehensive, as their friend Parvati was on the chopping block.

"Parvati and Roy would you please step forward." They did, with blank looks on their faces. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife.

"You have received the lowest amount of votes. I am sorry to say, but you have been eliminated. Which means Ferine and Eugene, you are safe."

Parvati's face fell and Hermione's vision blurred with a sudden onslaught of tears. Ginny walked forward quickly and enveloped Parvati in a hug, Hermione was quick to follow suit. The three girls were a mess of tears and make up. They were barely aware of the rest coming around to offer similar condolences.

* * *

Elphie met them in the Meeting Place. "I know this has been a long day for all of you," she said understandingly, "And it's honestly very sad to see Parvati and Roy go." Parvati and Roy had packed and apparated quite quickly after the show ended. Hermione doubted they wanted to linger around anyway. Elphie continued, "But before you head back to your rooms to get some well deserved rest, I have to drop another bombshell." She smiled apologetically, "Blame the producers, not me."

Hermione suddenly noticed that the camera's were rolling and they were being filmed as she had been too tired to be really that much aware of her surroundings before. She was experiencing conflicting emotions, glad that she was still around, sad that Parvati had to leave, filled with dread at this impending "bombshell", but too sleepy to honestly care. Supposing that everything would sink in after she had a nice bath and long rest, she turned her attention to Elphie.

"We were to be nice to you the first round of competition. You notice that we gave you contemporary dance, something that most of you are fairly strong in as it is one of the basics. Also, during dance class you must have realised your partner's dancing style is similar or identical to yours, majoring in the same things you do. Well..." Elphie paused to look at the camera with wide a solemn expression, "We're going to shake things up a bit. Please look at your black ribbons to see what dance style you will be dancing for next week and..." she trailed off and looked at them with an odd expression on her face, "Your new partners."

All at once Hermione was a lot more awake than she had been 5 seconds ago. She raised her wand and cried, "Accio ribbon!"

Fourteen black ribbons flew past the hallway door and into the Meeting Place, and one landed in Hermione's outstretched hand. Glancing around, she saw that Ginny's was quite pleased. She must have gotten someone else other than Draco, Hermione assumed. She then looked at Sean and shrugged sadly. He had been a great partner and she would miss dancing with him. Perhaps she'd have more "chemistry" or whatever that Smith said, with her new partner. She glanced down at her ribbon. Inscribed in the same flowing, loopy golden script it read:

**_"Lyrical hip hop. Draco Malfoy." _**

* * *

A/N: Hehe, I'm leaving you with that! Please read and review, reviews make my day seriously! Also I'll try to update soon, look forward to more Hermione Draco action! And if you're interested in Sean's and Hermione's performance, its actually based to the BBC's version of SYTYCD, No Air by Lizzie and Alastair. I'll post the link on my profile. Grins.


	7. Breakfast

AN: I couldnt wait to write more. So I did. I'm such a loser-.- Anyway, please be nice and review! This will be a short, light hearted chapter. Cheers!

**Chapter 6. Breakfast**

Draco Malfoy had stumbled to his room, threw himself into the shower with no regard for Blaise, and scrubbed himself in abandon. Granger was his partner. Granger was his partner. They had to dance together. They would argue till he turned blue in the face and died. He would try to be civil and fail because Malfoys were born to be devilishly good looking jackasses. So he would be a jackass and she would be a smart ass and they would be screwed. He banged his shampoo down. "Damn!" he swore. From outside he heard Blaise call decidedly unconcernedly, "At least she's hot. Hurry up mate, I need to shower too!"

He cursed again. And again. And again. "Oi! I appreciate vulgarities as much as the next Slytherin but would you please do me the honor of shutting the hell up?" Blaise yelled, this time a lot less unconcerned.

Draco finished his shower and pulled on his boxers. He banged the door open with vengeance and climbed into bed. Maybe it won't be that bad, he tried to convince himself as he pulled the duvet up to his chin. His last thoughts before he fell asleep echoed that of Blaise's. "At least she's hot," he muttered sleepily and then promptly dozed off.

;;;

Hermione Granger had stumbled to her room, with Ginny hot on her heels. She clambered into the shower and adjusted the water temperature with magic so that would be nice and warm and mist up all the mirrors. Malfoy was her partner. Malfoy was her partner. She would be nice to him and he would just be a prick in return because Malfoys were born to be devilishly good looking jackasses. He would insult her until she snapped and hexed him and then she would be sent to Azkaban and she would never be able to work as a Healer and free the house elves. Merlin help her, she was screwed!

"Hermione," Ginny called from outside the bathroom, "I think you're tired and cranky and your imagination is running away with you. You're not thinking straight. You won't go to Azkaban for hexing Malfoy. You would probably be awarded Order of Merlin, First Class by the Minister of Magic. You just need to get some rest and things will be better in the morning."

She realised she had been venting aloud, not in her thoughts. "I am not cranky, I know exactly what I'm saying," she wailed, rinsing off her shampoo.

"Hmm, maybe you're right then. I do agree with you, you know exactly what you're saying. Malfoy is 'devilishly good looking jackass' after all. "Ginny yelled over the sound of the shower.

Hermione immediately shut off the water, dried herself with a quick spell, dressed and banged the door open. "I did not say Malfoy was a devilishly good looking jackass!" she cried.

"Yes you did," Ginny said triumphantly, crossing her arms. "Think back."

Hermione thought back. "Oh God," she moaned, covering her face with her hands. "I did say Malfoy was a devilishly good looking jackass. You know what, you're right. I'm tired and cranky and I'm not thinking straight. I will go to bed and things will be better in the morning."

She walked to her bed and snuggled underneath the duvet. Ginny smiled fondly at her. "I must thank you, you were awfully quick in the shower. And don't worry, Malfoy really isn't that bad. Goodnight!"

* * *

Draco awoke jubilantly. He was still in the competition, for the first time in a long time, he had had a good long dreamless sleep, and life was good again. He swung his legs off the bed and looked around for Blaise.

"Well aren't you chipper this morning," Blaise commented, staring at him weirdly.

Something was up... Blaise's expression...last night. "Christ!" Draco put everything together and remembered the one thing he had failed to think of this morning. "Granger!"

He mussed his hair with his hand and looked at the clock. It was 10.00am. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yeah I woke a good hour before you. Since when do I ever wait around?"

"Since your pal got the life threatening news of partnering a muggleborn," Draco answered sourly. He got up and walked to the bathroom to freshen up.

;;;

Hermione awoke and immediately slumped back down, sinking into her pillows. Ginny noticed she was awake and came to sit on the edge of the bed to offer some sage words which were along the lines of "Life sucks."

She continued sympathetically. "I got paired with Draco remember? And he's really alright. Really. Just try, make the effort to be nice to him. And don't rise to the taunt."

"You think I haven't tried that?" Hermione answered miserably, reflecting back on their seventh year. Draco as Head Boy was a shocking choice to most of the school population, but they guessed Dumbledore had really bought into the reformed, anti-Voldermort Draco and if the wise old man had his reasons, they would just go with it. Despite their positions, they actually managed to avoid spending that much time with each other, and managed to get the work done. Well, Hermione had been the one drawing up prefect schedules, organizing Hogsmeade outings and planning the Yule Ball. Draco did a bit of work, enough to keep up appearances, Hermione thought bitterly. But he left the brunt of it to her. And in public he had been civil, although if they ever were alone together, and those times were scarce, he would either keep them in stony silence or engaged in heated arguments.

Ginny reached forward and pulled Hermione up right. "You will let bygones be bygones," she said in a very good impression of Mrs Weasley's no nonsense tone, "You will go clean up. And then you will go to Draco's room and nicely request him to accompany you to breakfast because I have eaten without you. You will make civil conversation. Or I will hex you."

Hermione, knowing it was no use arguing, freshened up in the bathroom, threw on denim shorts and a fitting white tee and made for the portrait hole, grumbling under her breath the whole while.

"Wait!" Ginny raced forward. She draped a long vintage necklace around Hermione's neck, and shoved a couple of bracelets up her arm. "Better."

"Thanks," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Honey, its called tough love."

* * *

Draco pushed open the portrait door and climbed out, muttering obscenities mostly directed at Blaise. He had decided against apparating, thinking a walk could give him time to sort his thoughts. Maybe he could buy his way out of partnering Granger. Maybe he could bribe Granger out of the competition. Maybe she would be so disheartened at being his partner that she had already dropped out. He turned, ready to head out to the dining hall and came face to face with the very same woman. "Speaking of the devil..." he trailed off. Granger was dressed simply, but the outfit still revealed the same slender legs and shapely body that her costume had defined so well the previous day. She looked exceedingly uncomfortable and avoided looking him in the eyes.

"Malfoy, I wonder if you could..." she looked up at him, finally meeting his silver grey eyes. After what seemed like eternity, she blurted, "Ginny forced me to ask you to breakfast."

Draco's lips twitched in amusement. The she-weasel was a fierce one. Speaking of the redhead, she hadn't been as bad as he had thought. Maybe Granger wouldn't be either. He looked at her and throwing caution to the wind, he changed his mind. His life was already screwed. He'd made enough bad decisions in his past eighteen years to last a lifetime. What was one more?

"To hell with it! Let's give this stupid, idiotic arrangement a shot." he told her in his usual, lazy drawl.

He saw Hermione's eyes flicker in something that seemed like a mixture of surprise and relief. She was probably surprised that he had acquiesced.

"But I do have one condition," he added.

"What's that, Malfoy?" Granger answered. Draco imagined her running through a thousand different ridiculous possibilities in her head. She probably was.

"We eat outside. I think if people see us together, they'll come gawk and we'll be talked about and I rather not be subject to that."

He saw her visibly relax and he smirked. "I'm not going to eat you, Granger."

"I know," she said haughtily, but with a hint of a smile. "I was just going to say, I agree. I don't want to be the next hot topic for gossip."

"I'm always the hot topic for gossip." Draco replied arrogantly.

"God, you are such a prick."

"First, She-Weasel and now you! Who knew that Gryffindors swore?"

"Go jump off a cliff, Malfoy."

"Look, do you want to starve? Breakfast ends in twenty minutes."

"Oh. Right. Let's go then."

Draco walked beside Hermione down the hallway. The very idea of that was foreign to him. Maybe it wouldn't be that hard not be a jackass. Just don't make any pureblood, elitist comments and don't mention the war. Or Seventh Year. If he continued in his stuck up prat behaviour and kept his insults light and superficial, it would be fine.

"Malfoy?"

Draco shook himself. "Yes?"

"We're going the wrong way."


	8. Beauty and the Beast

**Reviews: Thank you Nicconicco, xxorangexxmonkeyxx, and LadyOfTheLancashireManor! I'm glad you like it:D**

**AN: Yay, Read and Review please! Suggestions and stuff are more than welcome:D I like this chapter but I liked the previous one more. I think humor is really fun to write, don't you!**

**Chapter 7. Beauty and the Beast**

Hermione and Draco stepped cautiously into the dining hall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. It was a Sunday, their free day, so most dancers were still stocking up on sleep. They walked up to the counter and ordered their food, french toast for Hermione eggs benedict and toast for Draco. After about a minute of awkward silence, their meals appeared on the counter in carrier bags.

"Where to?" Draco asked lazily, leaning on the counter and running his hand through his blonde hair.

"The enchanted gardens, maybe?" Hermione answered, trying to be as amicable as possible. "I heard it's rather pretty and also massive, so I doubt we'll run into the cameras or anybody else there. It's magicked so that you will never enter into the same area of garden twice."

"Trying to seduce me, Granger? First breakfast, and now a garden stroll. What next, we get lost in the greens and fall madly and passionately in love? Reading too many romance novels, I'd wager."

Hermione looked at him with a pained expression on her face and started to walk. "Honestly! Must you always twist my words to insinuate something?"

"Christs sake! Lighten up, Granger. Have you heard of this little thing that normal people often do...it's called joke." Malfoy replied snidely as he took long strides to enable him to catch up with her.

"I will not dignify that question with a response," she told him snippily as he drew level with her. Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she let out a strained laugh. "Truly, Malfoy, we will never manage to have a proper conversation. Our exchanges consist purely of snide remarks and witty comebacks."

Malfoy looked quite disconcerted. "You know I hate agreeing with you...but I suppose you're right."

They entered the gardens through an intricate iron wrought gate. The place was lush with greenery and beautiful blossoms. Elegant trees, like birches and weeping willows, and muggle and wizarding flowers in shades such as white, pink, red and yellow, just coming into bloom, lent the place an air of etheral mystery and romance.

"It's gorgeous," Hermione breathed, sinking down on a painted white bench.

"It's like home," Draco whispered, his eyes filled with something akin to actual emotion.

"Pardon, what did you say?"

"Nothing." The unreadable mask was back, and he carried on in the same conceited vein as before. "It looks like a poor imitation of the gardens in the Malfoy Manor thats all."

"Oh." Hermione seemed unconvinced but she gestured to the place beside her on the bench. Malfoy took the hint and sat down, but not without making a disgusted face first. They both removed their food from the carrier bags. The blonde haired boy smartly transfigured the carrier bag into a table, but it appeared to be too small. Hermione took out her wand.

"Engorgio." The table enlarged to the ideal size. Both witch and wizard set their food on the table and began to eat. It was once again, awkward and tense, causing Hermione to think that if they couldn't taunt each other they had nothing left to say. The whole situation seemed wrong. They were sitting together, side by side, eating breakfast. It was too intimate, too personal an arrangement. This isn't going to work, she thought desperately.

"Hello, my name is Hermione Granger," she said suddenly, in a over bright, cheery voice. Malfoy started, and looked at her as if she'd grown another head. She persevered on. "I'm from Hogwarts. I was in Gryffindor, and I was valedictorian and Head Girl. _Some_ people say I'm a bossy, know it all, cranky muggleborn mugger with no life, but I can be fun and socialable if I want to be and if _some_ people are friendly in return."

"What," Malfoy said slowly, enunciating each word, "On god's green earth do you think you're doing?"

"I was trying to introduce myself. Have a conversation, like normal people do."

"Newsflash Granger. I'm anything but normal. I'm a cut above the rest."

"I think you established that in the first five seconds that I met you back at Hogwarts. Can you tell me anything, I swear, anything about yourself, other than you being a high and mighty Slytherin who fancies himself as a regular charmer, and comes from a filthy rich family that has been inbreeding for the past few centuries?"

Hermione downed the remainders of her french toast while watching Draco furrow his brow in thought and she realised, sarcasm aside, that was really all she knew about the enigmatic Draco Malfoy.

"I love ballroom dancing," he said uncertainly, after awhile.

"Really?" Hermione hadn't expected that.

"Yeah, really. Back in third year," he paused to sneer at her, no doubt remembering the stinging slap she had delivered to him that time. "I lost a bet to Pansy on whether Black would finish Potter off or not. I had to follow her to her salsa dance class. Something about it...captured my attention. It intrigued me. I continued taking private lessons secretly, arranged by my mother. I was very good at it."

Hermione sniffed.

He ignored her and continued, "My teacher reckoned I should take contemporary or ballet for a bit of background and technique, so I took contemporary, it appealed to me more. Less rigorous and strict, and left more to my own interpretation-"

"Too right!" Hermione interrupted, latching onto the subject with abandon and forgetting that she was talking to the pompous Draco Malfoy. They proceed to discuss the finer points of dancing, sharing what they liked, or disliked about certain styles.

* * *

(Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast! Its disney's opening line and I adore it)

"_Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there...The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?_"

Hermione paused to take in a deep breath. Who knew Malfoy would be so fascinated by muggle tales! They had spent the past hours chatting non stop, as if they were long lost friends instead of long time enemies, progressing from dance, to Ancient Runes, which was their favourite subject, to books, and finally to muggle stories where Hermione had ended up telling him about fairytales that included the use of magic.

"So the old hag was a witch? Was she performing wandless magic? And how did she enchant the rose?" Malfoy asked intently.

If it had been anyone other than Hermione, they would have laughed at his intense analysis of the fairytale. However, it was Hermione and she had admittedly done some research on the said story herself when she first came to Hogwarts.

"Malfoy, it's a beautiful tale meant to enrapture you, not for you to dissect and evaluate," the witch chided but then she added, "But I did do some research on it in the library and I found out that there is a spell to do bind the transfiguration to an object like she did to the beast form and the rose. It's very complex magic, especially if you want to add a time frame to it but I can't exactly remember exactly how it goes...is there a library here?"

Malfoy smirked. "Granger, Granger, Granger. You honestly want to go to the library, on a sunday?"

Hermione gave him a contemptuous look.

"Ooh, scary," he mocked, then held up his hands to show he was kidding. "So, won't telling these kind of stories to muggle kids make them..."

"Desire desperately to work magic?" Hermione supplied. "Yeah, actually it did."

She cringed and prompted by some unseen, reckless force she continued on. "I used to pretend I was a fairy." she confessed. "I would fashion myself a wand out of paper and pretend to mix potions in my mom's pots and mess up the kitchen."

"No way. Badass little kiddo weren't you, cooking up chaos in your mother's kitchen."

Hermione burst out laughing. "Ginny was right, you are a card."

"Hey! That's an insult you know," he insisted, pretending to be affronted.

"Right, so well I was ecstatic when I got my Hogwarts owl. At first I thought it was a prank but McGonagall actually paid my parents a visit to explain everything. It feels like my world has completely changed, but in a good way," she smiled, looking so carefree.

Draco glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Funny how he felt so comfortable with her, the girl he had taunted for most of his school career, just talking and teasing like they had been friends for eons and eons. It felt so good to have a honest-to-goodness conversation, not just the mindless chatter that he had grown used to with Blaise. He noticed how her brown hair tumbled down her shoulders in disarray, how her cheeks were tinged pink and how her face was suffused in a sort of glow from the shine of the mid afternoon sun. Huh. Stop right there Draco. Don't think anymore, he warned himself.

"We should get back," he said abruptly and stood.

"Oh." She looked startled. She thought they had been getting along, having fun.

"I'll leave first so we won't have to be seen together."

It was the wrong thing to say. Hermione's eyes flashed. "Why? Too ashamed to be seen with me, a muggleborn? Scared your pal Blaise will turn his back on you? Not that you have many friends, do you Malfoy!"

"Watch it, Granger," he growled. "I may not have many friends, but at least I don't ride the coattails of the famous Mr Potter!"

Hermione knew she was overeacting but somehow she couldn't help it. Being with Malfoy heightened her emotions. She felt like she had been swinging across the extreme ends of the emotional spectrum, from despair to indecision to elation and now she was going to crash and burn. Subconsciously she knew she would regret it later but right then she knew exactly what button to push and come hell or high water, she was going to push it.

"Oh thats rich, really. You, backed by your Malfoy name and riches and...ooh wait. Not so much of that ever since you crossed over to our side is there!"

"Do not talk to me about the war," Draco stalked up to Hermione, stuck his face right in front of hers and looked straight into her eyes, his own darkening with fury. "Do not mention it ever again."

She shoved him. "Oh? So I shouldn't mention Seventh Year too, like how you completely screwed me over in our Heads duties and how you made me feel like the dirt underneath your feet?" she hurled back, furious that she could have misjudged him so, that she had let her guard down, that five minutes ago, she had actually been laughing with him. "And how although I told everyone that you degrading me every chance you got didn't matter, but it really, really did? And how about just now? Want to pretend that didn't happen to? Ashamed that you got all chummy with a Mudblood?"

"Granger! Would you just shut up!" He gripped her shoulders. "You don't understand! It's not like that!" he yelled, frustrated, angry, confused.

Hermione shrank back from his touch. "Make me understand."

"No."

She watched the blonde hair boy turn away and take long, quick strides towards the gate, his body stiff with anger. Suddenly weary, and drained of all feeling, she rested her weight on the table she and Malfoy had transfigured.

Remembering what she had told Malfoy, she whispered to herself. _"Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind..."_

She turned to leave also, feeling that the words were somehow relevant, poignant, but she didn't know how.

_"But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within."_


	9. Stealing Your First Kiss

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters, or the competition So You Think You Can Dance or the idea of the choreography!

**Reviews: **Thanks **Nicconicco, beautifly92 and LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL** for your reviews! Also, **annaRAWR,TheFlyingCat ,Rachelli,phantasyphoenix** I'm so glad you like my beauty and the beast idea! I always found it very relevant to their romance hehe:P Thanks for reviewing! **AlexandraOzera** I totally agree, no one can be mean without a hidden motive! And thanks so much to my faithful reader and reviewer **Beccasucks!**

**AN: **I hope you guys like this chapter! Had a bit of a writers block for it. Please read and review! Constructive criticism and any ideas, all welcome:D Thanks for sticking with me till now. I went to watch a local production, Ballet Under The Stars, last night. The pas de deux was gorgeous!

* * *

**_Chapter 8. Stealing Your First Kiss_**

"Shit!" Draco cursed, storming through the portrait hole into his shared room.

"What now?" replied Blaise resignedly. He was lifting weights casually on the bed.

"I'm such a bastard."

"I honestly don't see why that's a bad thing."

Draco glared and Blaise just shrugged.

"I just had breakfast with Granger," Draco admitted heavily.

"No bloody way. You _are_ a bastard."

"Yeah, and it actually was going swimmingly until I ended things badly." Draco decided it best to omit the part where his thoughts went all soft and mushy on the Gryffindor. "I decided to leave and I mindlessly said something along the lines of 'I don't want to be seen together' and obviously she took offense and was angry, the stupid, defensive muggleborn. And instead of being the suave gentleman I usually am with the ladies, I lashed out and damn, she's going to screw up my competition!" He also chose not to mention how he had been on the brink of spilling the beans and explaining everything to her.

"Aw shit."

"Thanks, that made me feel all whole lot better," Draco said acidly.

"What can I say? She's a Gryffindor, she'll feel so guilty for giving you lip that she'll come over and beg for forgiveness."

Draco secretly felt that Granger would be more likely to kiss a hippogriff than apologise but he felt inclined to agree.

"Maybe."

* * *

Hermione apparated straight into her room, startling Ginny who was stretching on the floor.

"Merlin, Hermione! You gave me a shock. Anyway," she chattered happily, "You were away with Malfoy for ages! You even missed lunch! So how was it? He really isn't that bad right? He's got the looks, the charm, and he's very witty when he's not using his dry humour to be insulting. Did you two hit it off..." Ginny trailed off as she took in Hermione's expression.

"It was horrible," she confessed. "I couldn't help it though, I was just so angry! I thought we had built some sort of camaraderie over all that talking. I thought it was all good, but then he got up and wanted to leave and was so brusque all of a sudden. And I just snapped, I don't know why. Ended things with this whole verbal sparring match and I said some mean, mean things to him that, now that I think of it, I shouldn't have said. Damn, something about him just infuriates me sometimes. I don't understand him."

"He's a boy, hon," informed Ginny with an all knowing air.

"Of that I am well aware," Hermione said dryly.

"No," Ginny replied loftily, reveling in the rare instance that her knowledge bested that of her friend. "Draco Malfoy is a_ boy_. That means that though he's more afraid of his own feelings than he is of a flesh-eating threstral."

"Right." She plopped down on her bed and let her body sink into the comforting soft mattress. "Damn, since it's my fault for provoking him, does it mean I'll have to apologise?"

"No," Ginny snorted, sounding a lot more like her own feisty self. "He's a Malfoy. Since when do any of us say sorry to him?"

Hermione did not reply and instead stared up at the ceiling. _It really is my fault_, she thought. _All he said was that we didn't want to be seen together. And that's what we had agreed on in the beginning and all I just had to flare up and pick a fight. But he is a bloody annoying prick. Riding on Harry's coattails indeed! Where on earth did he get that idea._ Indignant she rolled over on her side. _He's full of rubbish. Let him be the first to come talk to me, the conceited pig._

"That's the way," Ginny approved.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at her, realizing how she had spoken her thoughts aloud again.

* * *

Draco apparated into the dance studio, not looking forward to dancing with Granger. She hadn't spoken to him since their disastrous breakfast meltdown two days ago. They were finally going to start on the choreography today and having a silent, and sometimes abrasive partner was not something that appealed to him. Elphie was just getting started.

She clapped her hands twice. "Get into your pairs!"

Granger stalked over to him rolling her eyes.

"Good morning to you too!" He quipped and recieved a scathing look in return.

Elphie instructed them to do a complicated sort of split jump and then the girls would be lifted straight up in the air by their partners and then be flipped over.

"Besides stretching and getting you muscles warmed up, it will also help you trust your partners." She gave Draco a pointed look. "Which would be especially helpful for some of you."

Draco was miffed. It was hardly his fault, it was Granger who treated him like a brick wall. Elphie demonstrated the sequence, Blaise lifting her up in turn. "Now it's your turn. Go on!"

"You'll have to talk to me sometime, Granger," he said while watching her execute a perfect split jump that he couldn't help but admire but then grimaced when she pulled up short of leaping into his arms. He could see her eyeing him warily. Draco sighed to himself. If she wasn't going to trust him to lift and flip her, then Elphie was going to come over and give them an earful. Not that he cared, really, but it would also mean that they would dance terribly at this week's competition.

"I'm not going to bite you," he wheedled. "Or I just might, actually..." Granger's eyes widened and he decided that annoying her was the best way to get a reaction out of her. So he continued.

"You're wearing shorts today. Trying to catch my eye? You know I always thought Krum was a tad too dense for you. He was only just part of your facade, wasn't he, to hide your secret, very secret, extremely forbidden desire to get with this." Noting that Granger's expression was growing progressively more furious, he smirked, a long, drawn out, superior Malfoy smirk. That did it.

"Draco bloody Malfoy!"

"And she speaks."

Granger's face took on a mutinous expression.

"Look, I'm not going to drop you. As much as I like the idea of letting you fall and hit your muggleborn ass on the floor, I'm not going to do it. I need a partner to dance with, for one. And, I'm too strong, muscular and toned to drop you. Honestly, I'm Draco Malfoy for christ's sake. And I'm warning you if you don't get yourself over here so I can throw you- I mean flip you, Elphie is gonna come over and you'll be scolded." He singsonged the last line.

"Fine," she snapped. She did a grande jete and flung herself into his arms with abandon. Draco, though surprised, caught her in his arms effortlessly, flipped her around as she arched her back and lifted one leg and finally lowered her gently to the ground. He suddenly became very aware of where his hands were resting, the planes and curves of her body. Shaking himself, he jerked his hands away as if her body was a red hot poker.

"Well done, you two! See what happens when you let go of control, Hermione? And see what difference it makes when you handle your partner delicately and with care, Draco?" Elphie gave the an approving nod.

Granger squeaked. "Yes."

Draco remained mute.

Elphie gave them a couple more exercises to do, involving a lot of leaps and leg extensions, fortunately not requiring them to work in their pairs. By the end of the one and a half hours, every dancer was sweaty, limp and sprawled out ungainly on the floor in some form of cool down stretch.

"You can take a 15 minute break," she told them cheerfully, once again oblivious to their pain. She got a bunch of moans of assent, no one lifting a finger from their positions.

"Then, you will come back and start learning your new choreography!" This got the dancers more perked up. "See you in a few!"

* * *

Hermione muttered a few choice spells to refresh her tired body. She had gotten a quick drink, and now was leaning against the panel of mirror with her name, waiting for the ferret to make his grand entrance so both could start on their choreo. She didn't have to wait long for him to stroll in, and queerly enough, he strolled in alone.

She had made up her mind not to talk to him, as she didn't want to apologise and she was still simmering from their fight. However Malfoy had seemed to have long forgotten their little spat and spent his time trying to make small talk, which in his case meant annoying her to death. She had finally cracked when he made some asinine comment about her having a crush on him, which was, like everything else he said, completely absurd. But since Malfoy was apparently so chipper and unaffected, she too could let bygones be bygones.

"You took long enough," Hermione informed him.

"Sorry to keep your highness waiting." Malfoy inclined his head in return, while tapping his wand on the mirror and saying his name. The panel slid aside, allowing them access to their dance studio. They looked around and quickly spotted the portrait. Once again, it consisted of a man and a woman, dressed in baggy sweatpants and t-shirts, wearing sneakers. The darkskinned lady looked hip, with crazy, frizzy black hair pulled back with a rainbow coloured hairband. The man had a close crew cut and had beautiful skin, the colour of milk chocolate.

Hermione chuckled and nudged Malfoy. "Check out the shoes."

She watched him bite back a laugh when he noticed the other couple's neon pink trainers.

"I'm George and she's Addy. We'll be teaching you your new lyrical hip hop routine!"

Addy picked up where he left off. "For this dance, there's actually going to be a storyline behind it. You," she pointed at Hermione, " Are desperately in love with him." She pointed at Draco and he smirked arrogantly. "He's your boyfriend, husband, your pick." At that Malfoy's expression developed to one of horror, but Hermione could not revel in his distaste because she too was experiencing similar feelings. "However, he is a workaholic, completely, entirely, obsessed with his work and this breaks your heart."

"We expect you to really get into character," George said earnestly, "It will add a lot of feel and give your dance more meaning. So, Draco, Hermione, lets get started!"

Malfoy had to carry a briefcase in this dance, and in the beginning of the dance, it involved Hermione dancing up to him, jerking his shoulder and throwing and stepped on that very briefcase. That was alright, but he also had to kiss her cheek. Malfoy, kiss her! She shuddered involunarily, even though she couldn't help but marvel at the smoothness and cleverness of the movement. Her hand would be lifted up and he would slide his chin down the length of her arm and give her a peck on the cheek, and then she would have to do a body wave away from him.

"Eurgh, Granger," Malfoy said, on learning that he would have to do that. They practiced for the first time, Hermione feeling very stiff and uncomfortable as she felt his chin on her arm. She worked on not scrunching up her face in disgust as he kissed her cheek but to her extreme shock, she found that it wasn't that bad. His lips were soft and warm and they barely grazed her cheek, leaving a tingly sensation behind. Stunned, she almost reached up to touch her cheek before she remembered she was dancing and she was supposed to move away after that.

"Sorry for stealing your first kiss, bookworm," the ferret had teased immediately.

"That was not my first kiss!" Hermione insisted indignantly.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of." Malfoy gave her a roguish wink.

"Malfoy!"

"So you had prior experience?"

"Yes!" she answered vehemently.

"Touchy, are we," he mused.

Their instructors watched their playful banter with smiles on their faces. It amused them to see their charges trade insults so quickly and offhandedly. "Those two will do well," Addy observed.

"Seriously, twitchy little ferret, why don't you migrate to china and die there."

"I'm touched you care so much about my welfare, Granger."

"Oh _honey_," Hermione had replied, laying it on thick. "You know I have your best interests at heart." She gazed at him with a mock passionate expression.

George nodded knowingly. "Those two will do_ very _well."


	10. Music Within You

**Reviews: Nicconicco** Hahah your wish is my command. Here's your chappie:D **beautifly92** Yes, I pretty much adore that dance, don't you? Chelsie and Mark do it so well. **missygrace101** Thanks ever so much! **Smurfette Mariee** Ooh cancan! Sounds pretty interesting:D alright I'll check it out haha. Thanks for your very encouraging comments!** CourtneyUchiha94** Thanks, I'm real glad you think so! **BeccaSucks ** Haha yeah i love that part too man.** Rachel-Not** YESS I love wicked with a passion! Hehe its the best musical ever, and I'm happy you picked up on that haha. Thanks so much! **LadyOfTheLancashireManor **Yeahh and you're getting mentioned in another one! I know right, I think they're just too cute together!

**AN:** Hi guys:D Thanks so much for the reviews, they make me happy! Anyway, I really like this chapter, and I hope after you read it you'll adore it too hehe. Anyway, I have a busy school week so I'll probably be updating at the end of this week or beginning of the next. Hope I have enough time to write!

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**Chapter 9. Music Within ****You**

"Ouch! Kick the briefcase, Granger, not my hand." Malfoy clutched at his hand, letting the briefcase fall to floor.

"Oh sorry! Let's just give that part another go, then."

Hermione had been practicing with Malfoy for the past hour or so. As much as she was loathe to admit, she had been observing his form and technique and he had true talent. Not only did he have perfect placement and control over his body, things that could be achieved through tireless, dedicated practice, but he also could manipulate his body to move lithely and with agility across the dance floor, or with heat and sharpness. They had been going over the dance with crisp precision and she couldn't help but admire his versatility and the single mindedness of which he devoted himself to the music and steps. And not just that. He danced with passion, more than she thought he was capable of.

"You're really good," she blurted suddenly, and winced as she saw Malfoy arch an eyebrow in response. Before he could twist her words to mean something else, she added on. "Who taught you?"

Malfoy shifted, looking a tad uncomfortable. "I told you, I took private lessons."

"Yeah, but who?"

"Granger," he said, giving her a searching look as if to gauge what her reaction would be. "She taught only purebloods."

"Oh." Had Malfoy thought she would be insulted? Well she was, but only slightly. "She taught you well then. Your exactness in dancing amazes me."

"Generous in doling out compliments today, hmm? Well, I suppose good manners indicate that I must return the favour." He seemed amused but also rather sincere. "You're rather good yourself, Granger. I especially like your placement of hands in contemporary dancing."

"I'm just surprised you aren't making any egoistic comments like you always do."

He smirked. Again. God, couldn't he just smile properly for once in his life?

"You underestimate me, Granger. I am perfectly capable of being a..." he groped around for a word.

"Malicious, nasty, elitist jerk?" Hermione supplied with a teasing grin.

"Play nice now, Ms Granger," he made a _tsking_ sound. "As I was saying, I am perfectly capable of being a nice, normal, human being, devoid of malice and evil intent."

To the most part, it was actually true. She and Malfoy had managed to limit their conversation to dance and poking fun at each other, avoiding sensitive topics like the war. They had good fun together and they even debated on several academic subjects, as he was as knowledgeable and self opinionated as she. She marvelled how, when alone, Malfoy could be witty and friendly, but when they saw each other with their own groups of friends, he was quick and cutting with his remarks. However, she had learned to adapt to their semi-truce, and even enjoyed the companionship he provided. They fed off each other's energy while dancing, and Hermione found she could learn much from him, more so than Sean. He was a surprisingly patient teacher.

"Anyway, Malfoy, I don't know how to do this move. It's the one where I'm facing forwards, and you back, and we plie in second and toss our torso forward and back. I feel very queer when I do it, like I'm dancing it wrongly somehow." She demonstrated the said steps under Malfoy's watchful eye. At first, being under Malfoy's scrutiny made her feel uncomfortable and self consicous but now when she did it, she was just glad to have someone who wasn't scared to correct the "know it all." Back in Hogwarts, Malfoy had taken weaknesses and exploited it, but right now he just seemed satisfied to lend a helping hand so she could improve in her dancing skills.

"Here, look at me." Malfoy danced the moves effortlessly as Hermione observed him. _He really is very good, _she thought._ Probably of professional calibre. He moves easily and with strength and confidence exuding from his person. Just look at the damned ferret, dancing like he was born to do it. _

Malfoy straightened up. "There, like that. Now you try again." Once again, Hermione repeated the steps that gave her trouble, and as she did so, Malfoy's eyes narrowed in concentration. As soon as she finished, he went up to her, slid his finger around her neat bun and pulled at her hair tie. The rubber band broke and her hair came tumbling down her shoulders in brown, unruly waves.

"Malfoy! What did you do that for!" She turned to gaze at herself in the mirror, raking her fingers through her untamed hair distractedly. Ugh, she looked such a mess! Spinning round on her heel to face him, she groaned. "I look like a lioness!"

"Damn right you do," Malfoy chuckled.

Hermione watched, fascinated, as his face unconsciously split into an adorable, lopsided grin. The elusive smile lighted up his visage and softened his feautures, making him seem less harsh and foreboding. _So thats how he looks when he smiles, _Hermione mused._ He looks so much more human...and utterly gorgeous. _His smile was infectious and she found herself beaming right back at him.

"What are you smiling at?" Malfoy laughed again.

"Well, for once in your entire 18 years of existence, you're not doing this." She demonstrated his trademark smirk, and of course it wasn't on par with his, as he had 18 years to perfect it and make it reek of superiority and arrogance, but as it was it came pretty darn close.

He whacked her lightly on the back of her head. "That, is besides the point. I removed your rubber band for other reasons than to amuse myself with your hair that defies the forces of gravity."

At this, he sniggered and Hermione rolled her eyes. Undaunted by her unenthusiastic behavior, he continued explaining. "You need to loosen up, Granger, that's why this movement is not working for you. This isn't ballet or something, it's hip hop. You need to stop controlling your movements. Although this dance requires tense moves and sharpness, you also need to let loose. Like your hair, which has taken on a life of it's own by the way. With all that extra weight hanging down from your head, it'll help you swing your body back and forth. Anyway, you'll be dancing with it down on the actual day, so might as well get used to it now."

"Ah, the walking, talking library of cutting remarks and insults is back! Now that is the Draco Malfoy we all know and love," Hermione said, ever so sardonic.

"You flatter me to no end, Granger. How about a word of thanks for my useful advice? It is customary to say thank you when someone helps you, you know."

"How about after I give it a go first and see whether you 'useful advice' is that useful after all? One can't go giving thanks where thanks isn't due."

"Ooh, burn," Malfoy mocked, but his tone was light and teasing. "How about you try now and we'll see about that thank you."

Hermione tossed her hair behind her shoulders and began to dance. She tried not to focus on what had to be done, and just let her body take over. She found that having her hair loose actually did help, as it required her to use exert extra force when doing the movement and it allowed her to maximize the intended effect of that step itself. A beatific smile graced her features, exhilarated that she had mastered the step. She straightened to face a very smug looking Draco Malfoy. His arms were crossed and he wore a self satisfied expression that wiped the grin straight off her face.

"What?"

"It worked didn't it?"

"Yes," she said shortly.

"And?" He smirked.

"And what?" She paused as realisation dawned. "Thanks," she added grudgingly.

"What was that? I can't hear you." She watched as his smirk grew to epic proportions and rolled her eyes once again.

She carefully enunciated each word. "I said, thank you Draco Malfoy."

"I can't hear you," Malfoy singsonged in return, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Don't push your luck. Let's take the routine from the top."

"Fine."

* * *

Granger slumped down on the ground after a session of intense practicing. They had mastered as much of the dance as they could, and now they just had to wait till the next day to learn more.

"I am dead beat,' she announced.

Draco sat down gracefully beside her, crossing his legs. He was tired, but he wasn't going to openly declare it.

"So I suppose you're just going to pretend you're not tired then?" Granger was looking at him.

"I'm not pretending!"

"Are too!"

"It must be more tiring for you than it is for me. See, all I have to do is leave you-"

"Like the cold hearted jerk that you are," Granger interjected. He chose to ignore her little comment and went on.

"As I was saying, all I have to do is leave you. You're the one chasing after me all the time and pining for me in your secretest secret of hearts," Draco said cheekily, alluding to the choreography.

"Yeah, that part sucks. How am I supposed to act madly in love with you?"

"Hey!" He pretended to be affronted. "I thought it would be rather easy for us. No acting involved. My charm and good looks cause women to fall at my feet, and by women, I mean you. And of course, I'm desperate to avoid you, I do that every day of my life."

He waggled his eyebrows at her ridiculously before continuing. "Anyway you did that yesterday without a problem."

He was referring to the previous day's promotional photo shoot, where they had to take photos in character for the Daily Prophet. He had been dressed in pressed office wear, except his shirt was very loosely buttoned and sleeves rolled up. Granger had been dressed in a short flowery high waisted skirt, leotard and a waistcoat. She had draped herself all over him and he had to pretend to busy doing other things. It was actually quite good fun, and they had kept up their repartee that made the wizarding photographers laugh.

"You prat." She shoved him. "Fine, since you're still so full of energy, dance something for me!"

Draco was taken aback. "What do you want me to dance?" he asked, instead of telling her a flat out no that he had previously intended.

Granger shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe what you would have dance if you had auditioned for this competition thing."

She eyed him evilly, identifying his feelings of reluctance. "But of course, if you're secretly exhausted you can just admit it now that you're a pretentious liar."

Of all the low things to say! It was so old school, but still underhanded and sneaky. The bloody woman knew he was dead on his feet and wanted to kick him when he was down. Whatever happened to her self professed morals, her honest ways and means?

"Seems my Slytherin ways are rubbing off on you." He got to his feet. "Fine, I'll dance contemporary. Just so you know, and just so I can prove I could dance circles around you if I wanted to. I'm going easy on you now. Usually I dominate the dance floor. It's just the damn choreo that gives you the spotlight this time."

"I hardly think you could dance circles around me. But you are undeniably good," Granger allowed. "It's not fair though, why on earth are you so versatile...wait don't say anything. I bet you were going to give me a half assed answer like 'I'm a Malfoy' or something."

Draco laughed. Granger made him laugh. She amused him so, with her quirks, quick tongue and sharp wit to rival his own, not that he'd ever admit it. He had smiled at her when she had commented on her reflection resembling that of a lioness, he couldn't help it. And her hair really wasn't that bad. He had grown fond of it. Damn Gryffindor was making him soft. She was so eager and earnest to learn, to learn from him and take whatever advice he had to offer. She could carry intelligent conversation with him, and he relished the debates they had, relished that someone would actually challenge his opinions and object to his views. But one thing he'd never let her challenge was his ability to dance, and to dance phenomenally at that.

"I'll show you what real dancing is and then you'll take whatever half assed answer I give you, Granger," he said assertively.

"Go on...but wait! There's no music!"

Naive woman. Did she honestly think one needed music to dance?

"I don't need music, Granger," he drawled lazily. "Any more queries? Questions? Inquiries? Do you have a questionnaire for me to fill up?"

"No need to impress me with your vast vocabulary and variations for the word 'queries', Malfoy. I'll just er, watch you then."

He shot her a look, and readied himself. Racking his brains, he picked out a routine that left nothing to be desired and began dancing, starting off with a dazzling double split leap. He lost himself in the dance. To him it, dance was not just knowing the steps, it was interpreting them. And Draco had always loved to add his own flair to the dance, making it his own, doing what the routine hadn't called for but instinct had. Dancing made him feel free, like there were no restraints on him. The past didn't matter, his family background didn't matter, the war didn't matter, he was his own self, dancing into what the future would hold.

Hermione watched him dance, enraptured by the way he moved. He was solid and liquid at the same time, executing a perfect pique turn. He was performing an intricate routine made up of soutenus, stag leaps and pencil turns. It was challenging and demanding, requiring a very exact control of body. It didn't matter if there was no music, she couldn't tear her eyes away. His steps were perfect, he never slipped, never faltered. And he danced with so much heart. Like he meant every turn he made. Like every fibre of his being depended on this dance. Like he was dancing as the world caved in around him. When Malfoy danced, it was as if his rough exterior melted away and he bared his soul in a blur of dedication and passion for the craft. She was entranced. The man dancing before her ceased to be her childhood tormentor, ceased to be the annoying prat that he was and instead became the epitome of beauty. He was never still, he was constantly in motion, his toned body whirling, extending, reaching. His body sung a song, the music came from within. Leaping into a final glisse tour jete, he ended the dance and bowed gracefully.

She was so caught in the moment, she didn't applaud. The room was silent, save for the sound of his labored breathing.

"Your dancing," she admitted to him, looking straight into his silver grey eyes, feeling rather light headed. "It was so beautiful."

Malfoy smiled at her for the second time that day and without thinking she plunged on.

"When you were dancing, it was like...it was like I could hear how the music sounded just from watching you."


	11. Getting to Know You

Reviewers:  
**LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, MissCrazyWacko, missygrace101 , Karate Chic, beautifly92, sarlovesoccer** Thanks for your encouraging reviews:D **shadowontherun**thanks! It was one of the things i was worried about at first, but I'm glad you think I managed to write it out and describe it. C**ourtneyUchiha94** Hehe thanks I love the show too! **Rachel-Not** Yeah I'm trying to pace it. Thanks for your reviewing, and yes, Wicked is the loveeee. I hope you're happy:p L**adyOfTheLancashireManor** Hahah oh man! Would it be helpful if i included the meanings of the terms the next time i use them? Seven years of ballet, cool!**Nicconicco **Thanks so much. Yes I will be posting the link for their dance on my profile!

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**Chapter 10. Getting to Know You.**

_"When you were dancing, it was like...it was like I could hear how the music sounded just from watching you."_

Draco stared at her for what seemed like eternity. He expected her to blush, or turn away, or do something else Granger-esque but she just kept holding his gaze. For the first time in his life, he had no clue whatsoever on what to do. Granger had just complimented him, and it probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him before. Warmth was spreading from his fingertips to the rest of his body, and he was fighting the urge to reach out and take her hand in his, to run his fingers through her hair, to thank her sincerely. But it would be a fool thing to do. Any displays of emotion were unheard of when he was growing up. He was accustomed to being cold and reserved. He didn't really want Granger to think he was getting all soft, did he? He adopted a cool expression and opened his mouth to say something, although he didn't exactly know what, but Granger beat him to the punch.

"Please don't say something snide to make me regret boosting your already bursting ego." She looked embarrassed.

Draco feigned shock as he sat down. "Bollocks, Granger. Why would I do something like that?"

She looked at him wryly. "Right."

He decided that a little friendliness wouldn't hurt and offered a tentative smile. "Thanks."

He was rewarded with a huge beam from Granger. She looked a tad relieved too and scooted nearer to him. "You're very wecome, Malfoy!"

Awkwardly, Draco proffered his right hand. She looked at it incredulously before bursting out into peals of laughter. Its was nice to listen to, he mused. It made him want to laugh too. He scowled, to hide his thoughts, and his scowl deepened when it registered he was being laughed at.

"A handshake? Really, Malfoy! Aren't you the epitome of everything prim and proper."

"I was taught to handle all things with dignity," he informed her snottily.

"Apparently no one taught you to handle things normally," Granger snorted and yanked on his arm, bringing him into a side-hug. He was so tall, even when seated, that she had to shift her position to get her arm comfortably around his shoulder.

"Now that's how normal human beings respond to situations," she told him, ever the smart aleck.

"So," he said sarcastically, tugging on her arm. "Are we friends, now, Granger?"

"Yes! Of course," she cheered, exaggerating her words. "Friends!"

In a bold gesture, he reached over to tweak her nose.

"Ouch!" she protested, but she was giggling in a decidedly un-Hermione-ish way as she slapped his hand away.

"That's for kicking my hand earlier."

"You do know how to cling onto grudges."

"I try."

* * *

What was wrong with her? She had been acting on impulse all day, rashly complimenting Malfoy on his dancing, recklessly pulling him into a hug! What on earth had she been thinking? Well, she hadn't. Hermione realised that hanging around Malfoy made her more uninhibited, made her less conscientious of her actions. Her newly acquired harum scarum behaviour was shocking even to her. It seemed like he was drawing out her impetuous alter ego that had been lying dormant all these years.

"I'm not usually like this." She thought it imperative to inform him.

"Like what?" he questioned. He had been surprisingly congenial all day.

"Impulsive. Spontaneous. All that sort," she waved her free arm about carelessly but found it hard to concentrate because Malfoy's thumb was moving in a circular movement on her shoulder. It seemed to be something he did unconsciously.

"I noticed, Granger. Aren't I such a good influence on you?"

"Typical, taking all the credit."

"Typical, can't shut up."

Trying to act offended, she twisted away and his hand slid off her shoulder. Immediately, she regretted it, she missed having his hand rest on her shoulder so comfortably, like it belonged there.

Malfoy gave her an odd look, tilting his head to the side disconcertedly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"I don't know." He seemed to be honest.

Hermione felt the atmosphere starting to shift again, bordering on uncomfortable. To lighten up the mood, she stuck out her tongue at him. He laughed and got to his feet.

"I won't stand for your cheek," he said mock sternly, shaking his head. "Now you seem to have lost track of time. Although you are content to waste your time away in here, I don't want to miss my dinner. So," he swept into a gallant bow, "I bid you adieu."

He turned and strode from the studio, leaving behind an unsettled Hermione.

After a moment of hesitation, Hermione too stood up and left, apparating to the entrance of the dining hall. Tantalizing smells wafted from the area, and her stomach rumbled. Merlin, she was hungry! She peeked inside. Seeing Malfoy was already there with Blaise and Iris and a couple of other girls piling up on food, she was reluctant to enter, and anyways, she couldn't spot anyone she was familiar with. Disappointed, she resigned herself to trudging back to her room to drag Ginny to accompany her for dinner, but as she turned, she walked smack into Sean.

"Nice to see you too!" He smiled cheerily and Hermione was mortified.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried, rubbing the side of her head with her hand.

"No worries! I bet you hit yourself harder than I did," he laughed and slung his arm carelessly over her shoulder, which reminded Hermione of how Malfoy's arm felt draped around her shoulder. A new sensation it was, but one that put her at ease. It felt different. It felt right. Hermione mentally berated herself. Since when had she started comparing other's traits to Draco Malfoy's and deciding that the peacock was in all ways superior? She turned her attention to the man beside her.

"So," Sean continued, unaffected by her lapse of attention, "Does the missus need an escort to dine?"

Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately. "Yes, the 'missus' does."

"Shall I offer you my arm?" He held out his hand and Hermione pushed it away.

"You are a ridiculous boy," she told him, then grinned to show she was only kidding. "But since I am completely famished, I will have to put up with you."

Together, they entered the hall and sat down at a table to eat. Both ordered simple meals of bread and stew, and soon settled into easy conversation.

Hermione took a sip of Butterbeer after downing a mouthful of delicious beef stew, rich in flavour and delightfully warm.

"How's your dancing going?" she asked between bites.

"Well, I'm dancing with Galinda, and she is ruddy brilliant," Sean mentioned after swallowing his food. "So much better than me. Seems flawless in everything she does. Her technique, her expressions, her flexibility constantly awes me and she is feather light too."

"Suppose that you two are the couple to beat now," Hermione remarked, rather peeved by his waxing eloquent on Galinda's faultless characteristics.

Galinda was the golden girl, the respectable pureblood witch from Ravenclaw, with goldilocks tresses that cascaded smoothly down her back, a fresh, young face and an elfin body that every dancer would envy. Hermione didn't dislike her, on the contrary, Galinda was amicable and humorous. Despite her friendly demeanor, she knew that Galinda was a force to be reckoned with, the one to beat. She appeared delicate at first glance, but when she danced, she commanded attention and dominated the stage.

"I doubt so," Sean said ruefully, "You and Malfoy are good too when you two stop being snarky"

Hermione merely shrugged.

"Ah well. At least I'm getting better. Galinda keeps me on my toes..."

He trailed off, spotting the woman of whom they spoke, and waved her over.

"Speaking of the devil," Hermione muttered under her breath as Galinda slid into the chair beside Sean.

"I see you've started already!" Galinda said brightly, gesturing towards their half eaten bowls of stew.

"Yeah, we were starving," she after a moment. She had been staring at Malfoy's table. He seemed to be arguing with Blaise about something, but she couldn't hear anything due to the buzz of conversation around her.

Galinda ordered a salad and a bowl of soup. Hermione watched with wide eyes as a plate of leafy greens materialized.

"That's all? For dinner?" She couldn't hide the incredulity in her tone. She looked at her hearty meal and felt slightly ashamed.

The pretty petite witch replied in turn but Hermione didn't notice. Her eyes were fixated on the shadow cast on their table by a certain blonde wizard exiting the dining hall, a certain blonde wizard that refused to acknowledge her, refused to meet her gaze. His detachment, in stark contrast to the lively, laughing boy of an hour ago, vexed and disappointed her. He wouldn't admit to their friendship. But then again, she realised, neither would she.

So he wasn't waving enthusiastically at her whenever they crossed paths. If you wanted to compare, she wasn't doing that either. So he didn't come over to specifically talk to her. She wasn't exactly bounding up to his table to engage him in intelligent conversation. Hermione wrinkled her nose at the revelation. Maybe she was being a little unfair. Maybe she had to take the first step, shake things up a bit. It couldn't be easy for him, to be seen with her. He probably was going against everything he was brought up to believe by even deigning to dance with her.

"Excuse me," she blurted before she could change her mind and rapidly got out of her chair to follow Malfoy, leaving a stunned Galinda and Sean in her wake.

Her hurried footsteps echoed her turbulent thoughts as she tried to catch up with him. His long legs took even longer strides, widening the gap between them as she brisk walked along. What was she going to say to him when she caught up, that is, if she ever did? Take it one step at a time, she told herself. Hermione decided to do something that she usually scoffed at, something that her meticulous and conscientious behaviour would not allow under normal circumstances. She was going to wing it.

"Malfoy!" she shouted.

He turned, shoulders rigid, his steely grey eyes piercing through hers.

Shucks, she thought. He looks mad.

* * *

Draco was in a foul mood from dinner, with Blaise and Iris haranguing him about Granger. _Going soft on the Mudblood, Draco? _Blaise had taunted. _What would your father say?_More fool him. Did he honestly think he gave a damn what his father thought? Lucius was rotting in Azkaban and it was partly his own fault. Did the war teach Blaise nothing? Did he not know Draco fought against the Dark Lord? The mention of his father had really irked Draco, though he didn't show it. He hated to be reminded of the war, of what he did. Blaise had never even mentioned it up to that point.

Iris had become exceptionally clingy, warning him to _'put a fair amount of distance between him and that mudblood wretch"_ because _"she wasn't worth a flobberworm"_. He honestly didn't know what to tell them, except to remark in an extremely snarky and arrogant manner about how nosy and irritating they were being. He was fuming, their snide remarks had gotten under his skin.

"Malfoy!"

Someone called his name. He spun on his heel ready to give a good tongue lashing to anyone who dared interrupt his brooding. Oh. It was her.

"What are you doing Granger?" he hissed, scanning the hotel lobby. Thank Merlin it was relatively deserted, save for the staff and the odd witch checking in. They were alone. He had a nasty urge to snap at her, to take his temper out on the bright eyed bushy tailed witch standing before him.

"I don't know," she shrugged nonchalantly. "I thought it would be nice if we could chat somewhere besides the dance studio."

Silly girl with her little notions. His anger slowly ebbed away, like the tide receding from the shore. He was mad at Blaise, at Iris, at himself even. But not at the muggleborn Gryffindor, no. The irony of it was not lost on him. How the tables had turned since the war. A sorry day it was, that Blaise's company was more vexing than Granger's. Crossing his arms, he tapped his right foot, the very picture of impatience.

"Haven't we had enough of each others company already? Merlin, I've spent the most part of my day dancing with you." He raised an eyebrow. "So, what exactly are you planning to talk about? Time is money, Granger."

"And heaven knows you have plenty of both," she replied sharply.

"Tell me something I don't know." His manner was languid, bored. "You ran over here and stopped me in my tracks to discuss my endless wealth? Don't get me wrong, I am more than open for such chitchats but I must say I am surprised."

"You are so full of it, Malfoy." Draco could tell her heart wasn't in it. She was avoiding eye contact and twiddling her thumbs. He waited, none too patiently.

"Are you all right?" she finally ventured. "I mean, you looked kind of cross just now."

'I'm fine," he said shortly in response.

"Oh." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. A look of concern and a smack dab of disappointment crossed her face.

Well, what did she expect? Draco to lead her to to those plush armchairs with velvety cushions, sit her down with a cup of tea and have a tete a tete?

"Malfoy, I know it must be hard for you sometimes..."

_To be around me._ She didn't say it, but Draco heard it all the same. The unspoken words hung in the air, a reminder of the prejudices and lines drawn between them. He just stared at her. She assumed he was in a temper because he had to be around her? Well, it was a ridiculous, wrong conclusion she had drawn. And that was the problem.

It was too easy for him to be around her, too easy for him to let down his guard. And it wasn't supposed to be like that. She was a muggleborn. The most part of Draco's life had been steeped in elitism, with beliefs of muggles being filth being ingrained in him from a young age. These convictions were deep rooted and hard to shake, despite the war, despite the Dark Lord being overthrown. He was still a Malfoy. It was one thing he was trained never to forget, come hell or high water.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, she breathed a soft sigh.

"I'll be off to bed then," Granger told him.

"It's only nine!"

"I'll have an early night. I'm tired."

"Goodnight then."

"Goodnight Malfoy."

* * *

"Dracooooooo! Honey, will you be back for dinner?" Hermione Granger pranced over and threw her hands around Draco.

"No, I'm working late tonight sweetheart."

"Aww there's a good hubby, bringing home the bacon." She tiptoed to pat the top of his head. Really! That was too much. He gripped her waist and swung her round, letting her body tilt back. He lowered his head till their faces were mere inches apart. Her eyes widened.

"You know you love me," he said huskily. He let her body fall back more, and grazed her forehead with his lips. He shivered at the touch of her warm flesh. It was a pleasant feeling having her in his arms. Like she was his to protect and to love and to hold. Granger squeaked and Draco promptly dropped her to the floor.

"You prat!" she screeched and got up gingerly. "And that's why I'll never ever ever marry Malfoy!"

Draco made a big show of wiping his lips with his handkerchief. "Like I'd ever marry you either." He smirked.

"Okay thats a wrap!" The wizard behind the camera gave them a big thumbs up.

"Well done, we'll use that for your video clip tomorrow."

* * *

**AN:** Sorry if this chappie seems a tad disjointed, it was hard to write. Apologies if its a bit draggy too. But! Good news is, next chapter will be the second round of competition!:D so read and review, thanks ever so much guys:D


	12. Round 2

**AN:** This is my longest chapter yet guys! Read and review, hope you like it! I'll try to post once a week from now on too. The links up on my profile too, for draco and hermione's dance!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters, the SYTYCD show or the choreo for Draco and Hermione's dance!

**Reviews: beautifly92** hehe yeah it was fake! Thought it would be a funny twist. Yeah too bad wasnt it haha.** Karate Chic** Thanks so much for your review! I really wanted to show how Draco is conflicted and how his relationship with Hermione isn't easy for him. **Nicconicco** Ooh i hope it wasn't too confusing! You can tell its only for the video right? **CourtneyUchiha94** Wow! I'll look out for you on the telly then! Haha, thats so pro(: I've done ballet about 10 odd years and contemp about five but thats it. I think salsa is a cool ballroom dance!** LadyOfTheLancashireManor** YOU'RE WELCOME. Thanks ever so much for your faithful reviewing it always makes me smile! **LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL** Thanks a bunch!

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**Chapter 11. Round 2**

Hermione shifted uncomfortably backstage, feeling keyed up and extremely anxious. Soon, the goddamn video clip would end and she would have to dance onstage with Malfoy, pretending to be wildly and fervently in love, with him not returning her affections, in front of the whole english wizarding population. Very daunting prospects indeed.

_"Dracooooooo! Honey, will you be back for dinner?" Hermione Granger pranced over and threw her hands around Malfoy._

_"No, I'm working late tonight sweetheart."_

_"Aww there's a good hubby, bringing home the bacon." She tiptoed to pat the top of his head. If she had to pretend to be in love with Malfoy, at least she could have a little fun while she was at it. Or so she thought. He gripped her waist and swung her round, letting her body tilt back. He lowered his head till their faces were mere inches apart. Her eyes widened in surprise._

_"You know you love me," he said huskily. He let her body fall back more, and grazed her forehead with his lips. She shivered at the touch of his lips on her skin. It felt too intimate to have his lips caressing her skin. She felt a blush rising to her cheeks and she squeaked and he promptly dropped her to the floor._

_"You prat!" she screeched and got up gingerly. "And that's why I'll never ever ever marry Malfoy!"_

_Draco made a big show of wiping his lips with his handkerchief. "Like I'd ever marry you either." He smirked._

Oh God. Hermione winced as she watched the snippet, her nerves temporarily forgotten. She couldn't believed how she'd practically jumped on Malfoy at the start of the clip. She couldn't believe how he had nearly kissed her and oh so casually dropped her after that! She couldn't believe the audience's uproarious laughter! For a horrible moment, she pictured Ron's and Harry's outrage as if they were beside her watching that incriminating video too. She turned to glare at the blonde dancer beside her.

"I suppose you enjoyed that didn't you!" she hissed fiercely.

Malfoy smirked at her with his eyebrows raised. "Of course I did, Granger. Of course I did."

The day had passed fairly quickly, and once again they had gathered in the early afternoon for a briefing and prep on all the nitty gritty details, such as the order of performance and their solos, what time they had to be ready by, et cetera. They had a short but thorough full dress rehearsal, and then were left to prepare for their performances. Draco and Hermione had chosen to get ready separately and meet up in the Waiting Room backstage. They had worn the same outfits as they had during the promotional photo shoot, and Hermione had let her hair down. She had performed a spell on her unruly hair, making it fall in sleek curls, and she prayed that it would hold her hair in a manageable condition till after the show ended. When Malfoy had seen her, he had let out a low whistle. Hermione had glared at him, and asked what he had been insinuating. He had replied that it was merely that her mop of hair no longer resembled a woodland creature, and he was fairly impressed. Jolly good way to start the evening, it was.

"Are you scared?" she asked him hesitantly.

Malfoy didn't miss a beat. "Not at all," he declared, patting his gelled hair that resembled a platinum helmet, seeming somewhat unsure. Hermione rolled her eyes. Typical high and mighty Malfoy.

"Are you?" he questioned, coming across as bored and superior, though Hermione knew that it was just a pretense of bravado. She would bet her Limited Edition Hogwarts, A History that under his haughty exterior, he was quaking with fear.

She gave him a sly, sideways look and answered. "No more than you are." Her words were dripping with meaning.

Malfoy grimaced at her. She took it that he knew she didn't buy his confident and careless act.

The video drew to a close and the audience roared their approval. Hermione's heart hammered in her chest, and her feet felt glued to the spot. The butterflies residing in her tummy started going haywire and seemed to have increased tenfold in number and size. Unconsciously she reached for Malfoy's hand, and upon finding it, gripped it tight, as if seeking reassurance. She was on tenterhooks. To her surprise, he squeezed her hand in return before letting it slip from his grasp gently.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, for our last item for tonight, I present to you Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger!" Elphie announced and the lights dimmed.

"Remember," he whispered, his voice unusually hoarse and emotive. "You're in love with me."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to twist around to look at him but there was no time. It was their cue. Quickly, they darted onstage and assumed their positions. As she waited for the music to start, she chanted to herself. I am in love with Malfoy. I am in love with Malfoy. I am in love with Malfoy.

* * *

God he was so bloody nervous.

Not that he'd admit it to anyone of course. Draco had been anxious ever since he had woken up that morning, breaking into a cold sweat because of a nightmare, the same garish dream that haunted him nearly every night, that lingered subconsciously in his waking hours. He would be hard pressed to find a worser way to start the day than to relive the horrors of war in the moments before he woke. On top of that, Blaise had been giving him a tough time and more often than not in their room, tense silence pervaded the air. However, when in the Waiting Room alongside Granger, all that seemed mere trifles. Sitting there, he had been scared shitless. They were the last performers, so he was forced to watch everyone leave the room all jittery, and come back either triumphant or in tears. Blaise, who partnered with Kate, had been especially sure of their performance, an awkward, quirky jazz piece. Galinda and the Sean guy, they had nothing to worry about either. He had watched their performance, some kind of waltz, and he himself knew it to be flawless. Wesley and the Weaselette gave an exceptionally strong performance of their rumba routine too, even to him, the seasoned ballroom dancer. Everyone was on top form tonight, sans Iris and Micheal. Iris apparently disliked her partner with a passion, and it showed in her dancing, despite the precise execution of movements that their lyrical jazz choreography required. After Ferine and Eugene had done their piece, Selma and Marcus had gone on, and then it was their turn to wait backstage.

He knew not what had possessed him then to grasp her hand, or what had made him whisper those implicative words in her ear before he went onstage. After everything, he'd just blame it on pre-performance rush. Granger was a dancer, she'd understand that it didn't mean anything. Or at least he hoped so. Right now, he was a undignified mess of nerves. He needed to calm down. He needed to get his act together. He...he needed to be himself. Running onstage, he began to channel the prat he'd been in his schooldays. He had realised early on while learning the choreography that his part called for a workaholic, unfeeling bastard. He had been confident in his ability to portray the character while dancing. He didn't need to act. It didn't even require any extra attention on his part. He just needed to be an ass to Granger, which was pretty much what he'd been doing his whole life.

But he had soon found he didn't want to do that anymore. Much to his consternation, he discovered that liked that he could make her laugh instead of inciting spiteful remarks. Armed with the troubling revelation, he had to go about his business pretending nothing was amiss. More fool him, thinking that would work. He

Now that he was onstage, Draco got himself into game mode. He tossed himself into the role, into the dance with abandon, eager to leave his turbulent thoughts to lag behind. And then, the music started.

Their bodies moved in tandem to the rhythmic pulse of the song, energetic and heated. They dipped and spun, wild and loose, yet tautening and controlling their moves at the right time. He picked up his briefcase, readying himself to stride off, Granger stormed up behind him just as he anticipated, halting him in his tracks. He pulled her to him, sliding and gliding in perfect time, performing contemporary inspired turns, traversing the stage with arms entwined. Their bodies wove a story as they circled round each other, ringing true of love and love lost.

She threw her arms around him, dragging him down. His body jerked away from her though his heart screamed not to. Smoothly slipping behind Granger, they enacted the move they both knew so well, letting his chin skim across her outstretched arm to kiss her softly and gently on the cheek. He felt her body tense at his touch, even though they had been over the motion loads of times. She then deftly body waved away from him as they continued their dance. The whole thing was seamless, the isolations of the chest and the triple popping movement done in unison. He let his body do the work, effortlessly recalling the steps and executing them. Reaching the climax of their performance, he manipulated her body with well timed movements, placed his hand over his chest, to 'steal her heart' per se. She pulsed forcefully and he fisted his hand, as if capturing her heart, holding it in his stared at Granger, who looked up at him, her face a fusion of vulnerability and hurt. Tearing his eyes away, and hardening his face with resolve, he jazz-walked decisively to the other end of the stage, picking up his briefcase, knowing that behind him, she was dancing a short solo of agony. He turned, and locked eyes with her one more time, their gazes speaking volumes, their faces hardened in understanding. He had to remind himself it wasn't real, as he turned and left her behind, alone and defeated.

* * *

It was over. She didn't dare shift from her ending position till she saw Malfoy walking back over to her with a small smile on his face. With applause ringing in her ears, Hermione slowly extricated herself from her emotions, the devoted love and eventual hurt that enabled her to dance her role so convincingly. She was especially proud of her little solo at the end. She had really gave into her emotions and let her body take control at that point. She allowed herself a grin as she met Malfoy in the middle and together, they faced the judges. Elphie, clad in a gorgeous forest green robe, gave them an encouraging smile, nodding her approval as she addressed the crowd.

"Shall we see what our judges have to say? Purvis, if you please!"

"I thought that was amazing!" Purvis Salvoy enthused, much to the agreement of the audience. "There was real emotion there, real feeling. Your bodies and faces told a story while your dancing really held us in thrall. Well done! If you don't make it to the next round, I'm a Cornish pixie!"

Everyone cheered. Fleur cleared her throat to get their attention. She seemed pleased.

"I agree with Purvis. Zat' was really spectacular. I thought zat' hip hop would not be your strong suit because of both your dance backgrounds, but I was wrong. You two really brought out zee essence of the dance. Hermione, you loosened up more than I initially thought you would, and Draco, you adapted to this style well. I must say I am very surprised, your partnership seems to work well for you. There is much chemistry in your performance and I think zat' you two are shoo-ins for the next round!"

Her words were met with more clapping, but Hermione was nervously anticipating Xavier Smith's reaction. She stole a glance at Malfoy from the corner of her eye, his face was seemingly impassive, but she could tell from the way he held his body that he thought the worst was over, that indeed, he was as happy as a clam with the positive comments they had received.

"I think your performance was a very good one," Xavier admitted reluctantly. Hermione had the nagging suspicion that had her partner had been anyone save for Malfoy, the formidable judge would not have been so forthcoming with his praise. "I noticed something interesting, Draco. I believe that you were intended to be obsessed with your work, and you weren't supposed to return Hermione's affections. However, in the dance you portrayed the character as someone who was torn between work and wife, you seemed to be as besotted with Hermione as you were with your job. It seemed to pain you that you had to leave her-"

"I found it touching," Fleur interrupted, dipping her head in assent.

Xavier did not come across as pleased to have been cut in on and continued, disgruntled. "I thought that it was very insightful of you, as it is quite a common situation nowadays. You made the character your own and added your own touch to the dance. Good work."

Hermione was slightly miffed that he had not mentioned her, but she chose not to dwell on that and rather, she focused on basking in the success of their performance. She beamed at Malfoy. It seemed like they would have quite a fair chance of landing top this week!

Elphie picked up where the judges had left off. "Now is the time to owl in your votes, wizards and witches! If you think Draco and Hermione were the star performers tonight, vote for them! If you haven't voted yet and you would like to do so, there is still time, and do be quick about it so we can put all these poor blighters backstage out of their misery." She chuckled to herself and waved the pair offstage.

Hermione and Malfoy headed offstage to the sound of Elphie continuing to encourage the viewers to vote.

"We have nothing to worry about," Malfoy told her confidently, then lowered his voice a notch. "If anyone is going home this week, it'll be Iris and Micheal, or that Selma girl."

Hermione raised her brows. "Iris? You're expecting your lovely, charming girlfriend to be booted off?"

She was surprised to see his face harden. "She's not my girlfriend," he said darkly, before brightening considerably and poking her side. "Anyway, dearest, darling Granger, you're my wife."

She pinched him lightly in return. "Come off it Malfoy!"

"That's no way to treat your husband," he retorted playfully.

As they re-entered the Waiting Room, which was filled with nervous chatter of couples occupying different areas of the place, his companionable manner abruptly ceased. Regaining his inscrutable facial expression, he strode over to a chair to take a seat, striking Hermione as somewhat lonely. She had half a mind to join him but at that moment, Ginny bounded over to envelope her in a hug, causing her to forget all about Malfoy.

"You were fantastic!" Ginny praise enthusiastically, her heavily made-up eyes sparkling with genuine excitement for her friend. Hermione smiled fondly at the redhead witch who scantily clad in a fiery red dress that was nearly identical to the shade of her hair and killer black heels.

"So were you," she pronounced affectionately. She had been so busy over the past few days practicing she only really was able to catch Ginny at mealtimes, and even then it was only every other meal. In fact, she'd wager that she had spent more time with Malfoy than she had with Ginny.

"Everyone was fantastic today," Ginny replied, a tad gloomier. "Top notch performances this week, hardly anyone screwed up. Which means my chances are-"

"You won't be going home," Hermione assured her, patting her on the back.

"I should hope not!"

The girls continued chatting to ease their nerves, but soon everyone in the room lapsed into tense silence, glancing occasionally at each other, analysing their chances and dreading the time of which they would be called up to receive the results. On muggle television, Hermione distinctly remembered the process of voting to be longer, but she assumed since this was in wizarding context, they would have magical ways and means to speed everything up. She decided to look it up in the library later. She had found that the Ritz did have a library with a rather substantial collection of books. Nothing on the Hogwarts library, of course, but well stocked enough. She hadn't a chance to visit it yet, but she would amend that soon enough! That is, if she made it to the next round, she sternly reminded herself.

A good half hour later, a nondescript portrait of a matronly looking woman hanging on the wall, spoke.

"Hello pumpkins," she said with an annoyingly patronizing air that did nothing to soothe their anxiety and instead, startled many. "I've been informed to tell you that you ought to get up into your rows and wait backstage. All the votes are in. Quickly now, look sharp about it!"

Hermione filed outside with the rest of the dancers, and a few were muttering obscenities concerning the "crazy old bat" that had so unceremoniously ordered them out of the room. She secretly found it amusing but she was too nervous to crack a smile. Malfoy joined up with her and true to form, the old twerp smirked. This time she found it oddly familiar and comforting, the stinging edge of his superior half-arsed smile had been subdued somehow over the course of the week. Standing beside the rich and skilled Malfoy, in the midst of highly accomplished and talented dancers, in the pitch darkness of backstage, waiting to receive their results, Hermione felt impossibly disheartened.

"Doubting yourself, Granger?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she replied dryly.

"Aww, itsy bitsy Granger feeling scared? Don't worry," he said with a saucy wink that she could barely see in the darkness. "I'm your partner. And Malfoy's never ever lose."

"Now that's reassuring."

"Of course."

Their short exchange was put on hold by Elphie, who welcomed the dancers onstage from her place near the three judges.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you your top seven couples!"

The dancers walked out into the glaring brightness of the stage lights, met by applause and an enthusiastic audience as they positioned themselves in the vast space. Hermione saw the cameras panning and assumed a confident expression. She sneaked a glimpse at Malfoy who looked supremely unconcerned. Oh, to be as arrogantly confident as he was in his place in the competition. If only she was as self assured as he. For once in her life she envied the bastard.

Once everyone stood in a straight line, all having perfect dancing postures and similar poised demeanors, Elphie resumed talking.

"The votes have been owled, and tallied. Blaise and Kate, Draco and Hermione, Ferine and Eugene, Galinda and Sean, please step forward." She paused as they followed her given instructions. "If I have called your names, you are safe."

Hermione felt her heart swell with relief and she gave Malfoy a look that said _phew!_ Maybe they hadn't come out on top, but she was willing to bet that it had been a close vote, and at least they could stick around another week to beat the heck out of everyone else the next round. Malfoy inclined his head in return, probably expressing similar sentiments.

"Ginny and Wesley," she broke off her sentence for dramatic effect, and you could feel the tension in the room surmount. Hermione crossed her fingers for her friend, wishing her all the luck in the world. "You are top for the week!"

Cheering erupted from the audience and from the dancers onstage. The judges looked duly pleased, save for Xavier Smith, who was frowning for some reason, and his unpleasant look was directed in Malfoy's general direction. But Hermione didn't care. She rushed forward to pull Ginny into a bear hug. The other witch's face was positively glowing and she seemed to be walking on air.

"I told you so!" Hermione said cheerfully.

"Oh my, I'm so surprised!" Ginny squealed, seeming not a bit flustered, but ecstatic in every single way. She clutched her partner's hand tightly as Elphie rounded off the show on a solemn note.

"Selma and Marcus, Iris and Micheal, you guys were the bottom two couples for the week."

Hermione felt genuinely sorry for Micheal. He was a nice, friendly guy, and a good dancer. It was just his luck to be stuck with an absolute cow like Iris. She hoped he wouldn't be sent home for another's mistakes.

"Selma and Marcus...I'm sorry to say that you two have been eliminated. Which means Iris and Micheal, you are safe."

Selma's shoulders slumped dejectedly and Hermione could tell she was fighting back tears. Marcus put his hand around her in an attempt to comfort the strawberry blonde, but it showed clearly too on his face how disappointed he was. To be knocked out of the competition so early was something quite devastating. A few of the dancers closer to them, like Kate and Ferine and Sean, crowded around offering their support and condolences. Hermione didn't know Selma or Marcus too well, so after giving them a pat on the back, she held back along with Ferretboy, Blaise and big surprise, Iris. She was whining piteously to Malfoy as Elphie closed the show for the night.

"It's the damn Micheal, Draco. I can't work with him, I can't!"

Hermione snorted audibly.

"Well, you're not exactly a joy to dance with either. Pity the poor chap." She was annoyed at the girl's grating voice and unpleasant disposition. Honestly! Putting all the blame on another.

Iris gave her a venomous look and cursed in an unbecoming manner. Malfoy lifted his eyes to meet hers. He seemed visibly surprised.

"Seems like I have been a bad influence on you, Granger! Good on me, then!"

"Sod off, Malfoy." It was the best response that came to her at that point in time. Short, sweet and concise.

"Dancers, listen up!" Elphie's voice rang out, drowning out the rest of the talking. Probably a very effective sonorous charm. Hermione looked around to find that the auditorium was practically empty, everyone having either flown or apparating off, taking their leave through whatever mode of transport struck their fancy.

"Sorry to interrupt you guys, but I suggest you run along back to your rooms now and vacate the auditorium. We ended rather late tonight and I know you people are tired. It's been another long day for us." She paused to smile kindly and sympathetically. "And Selma and Marcus, I am truly sorry. I had hoped to see more of you, but do know this isn't the end of your dancing career! You can take as much time as you need to pack, and then you may apparate out of here. For the rest of you, scat! Now!"

* * *

Blaise was shooting him dagger-like glares, like it was his fault Iris almost got kicked out of the competition. They were in their room, getting ready for bed, and Draco could feel Blaise's eyes burning holes right through the bathroom door and into his back as he brushed his teeth. Draco had no idea what he might have did to anger the guy, but he was in no mood to face up to an angry Slytherin that night. An angry Slytherin was a dangerous Slytherin and Draco did not particularly like the thought of Blaise hexing his balls off while he slept. Tiredly, he wondered what had made Blaise so mad. If it was about him getting along with Granger, he couldn't care less anymore. They were partners and Blaise needed to get over his unfounded worries that Draco was going soft and mushy on the Gryffindor. He wasn't. He yawned. He was just completely spent.

Pushing the bathroom door open, he edged past the irate Blaise, mumbling something about leaving a book in the Meeting Place, and quickly apparated there. He collapsed onto an inviting, cushy looking sofa. Maybe he would just stake out there and wait. Perhaps by the time he went back to their room, Blaise would be fast asleep. Meanwhile, it was just so comfortable on the sofa. He stretched out and relaxed.

* * *

Hermione tossed and turned in her bed. She couldn't sleep. Ginny had begun snoring the minute her head hit the pillow but she had been lying awake ever since. It annoyed her to no end, when she couldn't sleep though she was so dead tired. Another one of her pet peeves. She had a lot of them. She sat upright, somewhat sluggishly, and threw the covers off. Maybe it'll help if she took a walk. Carefully, so as not to wake the redhead, Hermione crept out of her room and then walked leisurely down the hallway, enjoying the peace and quiet in the unearthly hour of two in the morning. She entered the Meeting Place. A small smile crept over her face as she appreciated the stillness of the night, with only her wake.

"Mggnhh. No, please don't, please don't!"

A pained cry interrupted her musings. Hermione started. Someone was getting attacked! Someone was hurt! But where? She drew her wand and scanned the room rapidly searching for the cause of the disturbance. Her eyes alighted on a thrashing figure on one of the couches. He was clad in black silk pajamas which was in stark contrast with his almost platinum blonde hair...

"Malfoy," she breathed.


	13. Waking and Dreaming

**AN: **Sorry if this chapter is a bit OOC! It was interesting to write though, to say the least. Oh and THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS. I got 14 for the last chapter and it made me do a little dance of my own! You guys roccckkkk:D

**Reviewers: Karate Chic** Hehe she will. Read on and see!** Smurfette Mariee **Here ya go, updated! Hahha maybe Hermione won't be able to wiggle her way out of this one. **BeccaSucks **What dance do you think it would be fun for Draco and Hermione to do? :D **LadyOfTheLancashireManor** Here's a super big thank you for your super nice review... This chapter! Hehe.** shadowontherun ** Hmm. Not months though, years. About 2 years give or take! Thanks!** Rachel-Not** ...would grovel in submission, to feed your own ambition! Hahah. Thanks. I like those lines too :P Update here, so I get to keep my heart yes. **beautifly92** Thanks:D I hope I phrased it well! **Nicconicco** Thanks ever so much, your review made me smile like mad(: **CourtneyUchiha94 ** I'm sure you'll do great, no worries! Wow you're a total pro. annaRAWR Yay, your review made me smile too! Thanks a gazillion! **Lollo-BookLOOVEER** heehee i know right. Our dracos in denial. **LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL and missygrace101** thanks for your reviews too!

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**Chapter 12. Waking and Dreaming**

_A pained cry interrupted her musings. Hermione started. Someone was getting attacked! Someone was hurt! But where? She drew her wand and scanned the room rapidly searching for the cause of the disturbance. Her eyes alighted on a thrashing figure on one of the couches. He was clad in black silk pajamas which was in stark contrast with his almost platinum blonde hair..._

_"Malfoy," she breathed and crept forward._

He was curled on the couch, his blonde hair messy and matted, and his face, for once, was scrunched up in fear. Malfoy whimpered, softly this time. His hands and legs thrashed violently, abruptly, hitting Hermione on her shin as she stood beside his troubled form. He's having a nightmare, she realised. He looked so vulnerable lying there, assaulted in his sleep by the evils in his subconscious. Despite her better judgement, her heart went out to him. Kneeling on the soft carpet, she tentatively reached out her hand to rest it on his shoulder, attempting to soothe him.

"Draco, wake up," she said softly, patting him gently like her mother used to whenever she had a case of night terrors when she was younger. "It's just a dream, Draco. Shhh, wake up."

* * *

_Draco was in the Forbidden Forest. Night had fallen. The only light source came from the moon, round and glowing in its fullness. All was silent, except for the sound of Draco's own breathing. He was utterly and completely alone. But not for long. Someone was coming. _

_A cold wind whistled through the air, the leaves rustled and the trees sighed. Something moved in the blackness and Draco knew, he was here, shrouded by night, hidden in the darkness. The black cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows and glided forward, the only discernable feature Draco could see was his cat-like blood red eyes, eyes that never held a hint of compassion, only glittered maliciously in the soft moonlight. Draco's heart hammered in his chest. Fear. Pure, unaltered fear gnawed at his bones and ate away at his heart. He shivered. Cold, so cold._

_"You," the man said, his voice a raw hiss. The one word was uttered with indifference, indifference that gave Draco chills. He forced himself to stand straight, to find courage to face the soulless incarnate of evil in front of him._

_"You don't scare me," Draco spat, fumbling in his robes for his wand._

_"Foolish boy," He chuckled mirthlessly, his laugh held no warmth, no humor. It made Draco's blood run cold. "So foolish. I scare you. Of course I scare you." He drew his wand in a careless manner and twirled it before he continued. "I have tortured and killed. I have robbed you of everything you ought to have had. Of course I scare you. How foolish of you to presume things Draco."_

_"You thought the bumbling idiot of a headmaster could protect you. You thought you could run away, like the spineless coward you are. You thought that you could get away. You thought that you would be safe. You think I don't know? Seeing Lucius get caught, thrown in Azkaban, shook you. Being ordered to kill the headmaster shook you. You didn't bargain for all this, did you, Draco? Yes, you were brought up in the lap of luxury. Enjoying all the privileges your sheltered life had to offer. Messed around with the Dark Arts with Lucius. Thought it was a _game. _Thought it was _fun_. Easy for you to make fun of Mudbloods, hex them in the hallways, trash talk them at meals. You thought that was all there was to it." His tone was so patronizing. Draco clenched his fists._

_"And swearing loyalty to me, the Dark Lord, alongside with your father. Thought it would impress your mates if they knew you served me, didn't you. Thought it would make you a cut above the rest. Thought it meant prestige, and it does. Prestige, and honor, more than you will ever know in your worthless existence. Your little stunt, your dereliction of duty brought shame on the Malfoy name. Lucius would be disappointed. See, Draco, you didn't know what it all entailed. Perform a childish hex on muggles, yes. But use an to use an unforgivable? You didn't dare. You didn't measure up. You failed. So you ran. And you were safe with Dumbledore and Harry Potter," his voice twisted, changing from the conversational tone that he had adopted before._

_The Dark Lord smiled cruelly. "Oh, yes, you fear me Draco. Not only because I could kill you with a single spell or torture you to death with my wand, but because I have obliterated every single meaningful thing you've secretly desired. You never had a father, Lucius always was cold, reserved and why? You never had a real childhood, never heard those sickeningly sweet words of affection and why? Because I taught him it was weakness to show emotion. I take great pride in that, Draco. If only you had turned out as Lucius hoped. But you didn't."_

_"Crucio!"_

_Draco prepared himself for an onslaught of pain, but instead he heard a woman's voice screaming. He whipped his head behind, only to see a woman suspended in midair, writhing in agony as her white blonde hair fanned out behind her. __Merlin, no! _His mother! How dare he hurt her. 

_Without sparing a thought to how his mother got there in the first place, he launched himself at the Dark Lord__ in a haze of emotion_.

___"No, no! Please don't!" Draco first fought, then pleaded, but all to no avail. _  


_"Oh, I forgot," The Dark Lord said coolly, restraining Draco with a flick of his wand, and subsequently letting Narcissa Malfoy plummet to the ground. "You love your mother. More fool you, who love."_

_"Imperio."_

_Draco's mind went cloudy, foggy, like he had to trudge through a murky mist to grab hold of coherent thought. Unbidden, he raised his wand, though everything else cried out in protest. _

_"Do it," The Dark Lord commanded. "Now."_

_Draco fought, tried to resist._

_ "Now." Authority layered thickly in the single syllable. _

_He ground the word out from his lips. "Crucio."_

_And his heart ached with unspeakable pain as he cast an unforgivable curse upon his own mother, his body was on fire as if a thousand white hot knives were stabbing into him, his vision blurred with tears, as if he was the one whose body was being tormented by magical agony, as if he was on the receiving end of the spell, not the caster of it._

_"You condemned your own self, Draco." The Dark Lord seemed to take sadistic amusement in his anguish. "You will never belong. To us, you will remain a traitor. You who betrayed your own. To them, you will be an outcast. You will walk among them, fight alongside them, but you will never be one of them. They will think you a coward, selfish and unkind. You will never be loved. You will never be accepted. And it's your own fault."_

"Draco, wake up."

_Something in his mind shifted._

"It's just a dream, Draco, shhh, wake up."

_Just a dream, just a dream._

* * *

She watched as his eyes flickered open, and shuttered close once more. Hermione heard him utter a soft groan.

"Hermione..."

She blinked twice in surprise on hearing her actual name coming from his lips, though she chalked it up to a moment of waking confusion. Hermione had experienced plenty of those herself. Once, in a Potions class that one of the Slytherins had charmed her to sleep through, she had woken up to mistake Snape for her father. A pretty sticky situation.

"It was just a nightmare, Malfoy," she said consolingly.

Malfoy dragged his hand over his face and struggled to sit up. He seemed disorientated to Hermione, so she tried to assist. He merely swatted her away in return, as if she were a fly.

"I'm groggy from sleep, Granger, not an invalid about to die," he insisted half heartedly. He leaned against the back of the couch, shoulders slumped and disconsolate, rubbing his eyes in an undignified fashion.

Hermione sat next to him on the couch. It struck her how human Malfoy was at that moment. Without his obnoxious facade and biting tongue, he seemed as fallible as any other man. Impulsively, she rested her hand over his, hoping to comfort him somehow. At her touch, he took a deep breath, his body shuddered. Hermione contemplated snatching back her hand, but then Malfoy turned to face her, features etched with such weariness that it sent a pang through her.

"Do you feel like talking about it?" she offered, feeling a tad awkward but feeling the urge to provide him a modicum of solace at least.

"Do I feel like talking about it," he repeated hollowly, his voice raspy from sleep, turning away from her once more. "What's there to talk about? The war ended over two years ago. You won."

"So did you," Hermione reminded him quietly.

"Yeah," his voice cracked. "Won the highly coveted title of the Boy Who Jumped Ship and the enmity of most of my housemates and relatives." He laughed, but he sound was brittle.

Hermione decided to answer him honestly. "Well, I thought it was incredibly brave of you actually. Not a lot of people who've seen the darkness dare to step away and walk towards the light." She trailed off, musing more so to herself than talking to Malfoy. "And I suppose it was very nearly like walking into the lions den for you, joining the Order. Leaving the place of which you were accustomed and voluntarily entering into a...rather hostile, unfriendly environment does require a great deal of fortitude."

A reply did not seem forthcoming, so she was content to sit in silence with her one time enemy, hand in hand. The warmth of his touch was familiar, almost homey. It surprised her. The monotonous ticking of the clock signified the minutes passed, and Hermione slowly felt her eyes drooping. She was seconds away from dozing off when Malfoy spoke suddenly.

"I know I was a jerk back in Seventh Year."

Hermione did not acknowledge or refute the statement, deciding than holding her peace was the best option.

"I had my reasons," Malfoy continued. "I was...confused. Felt like the world had been snatched from under me. For the better part of my life, I'd grown up to believe in pureblood superiority and elitism. I spent my childhood watching Father practicing the Dark Arts. Cruelty and sadism was the norm. You don't understand how its like," he clenched his fist. "To have believed in something so firmly, then learn you've been wrong your entire life. So yeah, I copped out, turned over a new leaf, if you will, and joined your side. But...how was I to act? I know Potter and the rest all thought my change of heart was only because I knew in the end, the Dark Lord was going to lose. Thought I was taking the easy way out. Guess they expected me to act like, I don't know, like I used to."

"So I did. On one hand, I knew my family's ideals were wrong, but on the flipside, old habits die hard. And if no one expected me to develop a conscience, why try? Continuing in my old behaviour was comforting in an ironic way. At least I knew one thing hadn't changed and I was still a right bastard," he said bitterly, then pounded the sofa in frustration. "I don't know how to explain myself. I don't why I'm even trying to explain myself to you in the first place. In fact, tomorrow morning I'm going to pretend this never happened because I'm out of sorts from the damn nightmare and currently not thinking straight. But listen up, Granger," he said authoritatively. "You probably won't ever hear this again. I know I kind of hurt your feelings back in seventh year, with the whole Head Boy with a stick up his ass attitude problem. I knew you thought better of me, and I proved you wrong. And I just want to say, I'm sorry."

Hermione absorbed his confession and apology with a smatter of surprise. She didn't know quite what to say.

"Thanks, Malfoy," she said slowly, cautiously, tasting the foreign words and rolling it around her mouth, getting used to the unusual feeling of gratitude to the man seated next to her. Malfoy inclined his head, but his figure was hunched over, still brooding. It must have been some terrifying dream to put him in such a mood. She would have thought Malfoy would have simply shaken it off instead of being so affected by his nightmare.

"What was your dream all about?" she questioned, part of her truly desiring to provide a listening ear, yet there was also a smidgen of curiosity marring her good intentions.

"The usual," Malfoy muttered, avoiding looking at her. "The war, my mother, deserting, being threatened to be skinned alive, the Dark Lord taunting me..."

Hermione waited patiently and expectantly for him to continue. His voice dropped a notch.

"What really gets to me is that he's right," he whispered brokenly. "Everything he says, it's true."

Hermione rubbed her thumb in a circular motion on his hand reassuringly.

"What does he say?" she asked softly, as if a loud noise would somehow break the spell and Malfoy would revert right back to being his usual inconsiderate self.

"Doesn't matter." Instead of being short and curt, the answer just seemed to emphasize to Hermione how defeated her rival actually felt.

"Does too," she found herself insisting, albeit not very eloquently.

"It's not something we need to talk about now... or ever in fact."

As suddenly and abruptly as his moping started, it ended, and it ended with an unbecoming snort from the blonde wizard himself. "I can't believe it. I'm sitting here with you, Granger, divulging all my _emotions_ and_ feelings_, having one of those, what do you call it?"

"Heart to hearts," Hermione supplied helpfully.

"Heart to heart talks," his voice seemed suddenly suffused with mirth. "I can't believe it. If you told me a year ago, that I would be sitting with you having a tete a tete, I would have assumed you'd gone round the bend like our dear dotty old headmaster."

"Professor Dumbledore isn't dotty," Hermione protested indignantly, before allowing herself a hint of a grin. "Although I do agree with you, this entire situation is extremely improbable."

"Only you would use words like improbable in everyday conversation, Granger. But seriously, who would've thought. You sitting here with me -"

"Way past midnight-"

"Confessing our most secret_ fears and feelings_-" He said the last few words so incredulously that Hermione had to laugh.

"With you sitting right beside me..."

Their amusement fizzled away like the last few drips from a soda can as they simultaneously looked down and realised they were still holding hands. Hermione, with a heated blush colouring her cheeks, jerked her hand back in embarrassment. She glanced away and tried to get up.

"I think I should go back to bed."

"Don't," Malfoy implored rather unexpectedly, reaching out as if to stop her. It crossed her mind, that even it be for a fleeting moment, Malfoy was scared to be left alone.

"Um," she replied, not too coherently, as giant butterflies had once again decided to roam around in the confines her tummy.

A rational thought suddenly occurred to Hermione, distracting her from her flushing cheeks and unanticipated and mostly unwelcome emotions.

"Malfoy, haven't you ever tried Sleeping Draughts? They induce dreamless sleep you know," she informed him, relieved that she was now on safe ground. Dreamless sleep potions, very sensible and pragmatic. It helped her recall the logical part of her brain that always seemed to shut down in Malfoy's presence.

"They give me the worst headaches afterwards," Malfoy frowned in return.

"You could try headache antidotes. They might have a couple in the hotel infirmary as well as the Sleeping Draughts. Or you could use those healing charms...remember the temporary pain relief spell Professor Flitwick taught us in seventh year?"

"Antidotes don't work for me. And it may come as a shock to you, Granger, but not everyone is as adept in Charms as you are. If memory serves me right, you were the only one out of the whole class to master the damn charm." He admitted this slightly grudgingly.

"I could perform it for you tomorrow morning, perhaps?"

"It's fine, Granger."

"Will you be alright, if I leave then?"

"Obviously," he said in clear indifference, but Hermione thought she detected a hint of panic behind those enigmatic grey eyes.

"Weren't you begging me not to go just a few seconds ago?" she questioned laughingly. Seeing his scowl, she quickly retracted her statement.

"You know what, I think I'll stay for a bit. Not as if I could go to sleep back in the room with Ginny snoring loud enough to wake the dead."

Hermione didn't know why she decided to stay, or why she exaggerated Ginny's snoring to have a practical reason not to go back to her room. All she knew was that she was staying here, with Malfoy, entirely on her own accord, and that all these thoughts and feelings had to be shoved into a corner in her mind and never be touched again. She settled back down on another sofa, a safe distance away from Malfoy and his hands this time.

"You can try to get some shut eye, I'll wake you up if you seem to be having bad dreams again," she volunteered, ever so self sacrificing.

Malfoy looked torn. It was plain to see he liked her suggestion, but was loath to be reliant on the muggleborn witch.

"Okay," he finally replied. Pausing to smoothen the back of his hair, he continued, almost pleadingly. "Just don't tell anyone. About any of this."

"So much for gratitude," she teased and then quickly assured him, "But of course, wouldn't dream of it."

She watched as Malfoy made himself comfortable, shifting around on the sofa and adjusting the angles of the cushions. She transfigured her own cushion into a blanket and trudged over to the blonde boy. The poor exhausted thing looked half asleep already. She draped the blanket over him and tucked it under his chin with a quick, smooth tug, the motherly action done purely on instinct.

"You aren't half bad, honesty," he murmured, looking at her blearily.

Hermione caught herself smiling at him in return, in an almost fond and affectionate way.

"Neither are you," she said by way of thanks.

She returned to the sofa, her body sinking into the plushy cushions, vowing to watch out for Malfoy. The poor wizard was more troubled than he let on and a bout of compassion for her old rival seemed to have taken up permanent residence within her. Hermione sighed to herself as she relaxed. And promptly fell asleep.

* * *

**AN**:Like it? Love it? Simply can't stand it? Read and review please! My first time writing stuff like this so feedback is appreciated:D


	14. Been Thinking Bout' You

**AN:** Hey guys! Love you all for your awesome reviews. Been a bit busy, writing an essay for my UWC application, wish me luck! Apologies if this chapter is a tad draggy, am almost finished with the next one, it's my favourite, so watch this space!

**Reviews: CourtneyUchiha94** Thanks so much(: Love your reviews...nope haven't, no time :( But I will! b**eautifly92** I was a bit worried about that, glad that you don't think they were OOC!** beautifly92** I YouTubed it! Its really nice. But I've sort of planned it all out already, promise I'll keep that in mind though, thanks for your great suggestion! **tigger93 **Glad you like it. Well, thats for me to know and you to find out! Hehe. But they'll stay partners. wldnt separate them for the world! **TheWitchOfTheSout**h yay(: and, oh phew. haha. **Lollo-BookLOOVEER** Thanks! I'll try to keep em coming faster. Next chapter may be up sooner than you think! **LadyOfTheLancashireManor **Great! I'm glad you thought it wasn't too mushy. **Nicconicco** Your review made me smile :D Thanks ever so, here's your chapter!** shadowontherun, 123Aqua123, Era Of Aequora, Karate Chic, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL **Thanks so much guys, your reviews are awesome:D

* * *

**Chapter 13. Been Thinking Bout' You**

Draco stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was a dull ache at the side of his neck which explained itself when he recalled the previous night's events to mind. He slept on a couch! With Hermione to watch out for him! She tucked him into bed as if he were a five year old kid! He even called her by her first name. Oh, such unspeakable things.

It was not lost on him though, that the muggleborn now knew of his troubles. He shuddered as he remembered the nightmare. Ever since the competition started, he'd been experiencing them more frequently than usual. He hoped Blaise hadn't cottoned on to the subject of his dreams. If he had been muttering and tossing in his sleep enough that Granger could tell he'd been having a bad dream, it must be pretty obvious. Draco groaned. To top it all, he had gone and spilled all his nitty gritty secrets. Now Granger probably thought she had him all sussed out. He shook his head. Not bloody likely!

He cast his gaze around the room, landing on the sleeping brunette. He felt something close to affection wash over him. Unwittingly, he smiled at her. She had been just so selflessly willing to listen and to offer advice. And as cheesy as it sounded, she believed in him. It was probably part of her Gryffindor nature, to be so trusting and believing the best in everyone with alarming alacrity. Then again, maybe it wasn't part of her Gryffindor nature. Potter and Weasley were hardly as forgiving.

Draco checked the clock on the wall and found that it was half past ten in the morning. Good thing they had their usual day off, that came after each round of competition. He shrugged off the blanket, fished for his wand in his pajama pocket and magicked the said blanket back to it's original form. Gingerly getting off the couch, with his muscles screaming in protest, he walked over to where Hermione was sleeping. Looking down at her sleeping form, he wondered if he had ought to wake her. But, admitting his cowardice to himself, he was reluctant to face her after the embarrassingly revealing events of the night. Feeling a rare twinge of guilt, he turned and strode from the place, making his way to his room. He would have apparated, but although Disapparating was allowed when in the room, there were apparently wards preventing one from apparating to it, for security reasons, of course.

He didn't really regret sharing with her, but at the same time it was so uncharacteristic of him. However, it hoped it explained his spasmodic bad moods and crabbiness. It was hard for him to reconcile himself to all the changes and the turns his life had taken since his desertion. All his old habits and ideals, it was how he was raised. It wasn't all sunshine and daisies over his side of the fence and what more, he was not condoning his past behavior, just suggesting she be more understanding. Muttering the password, Draco waited for the portrait to grant him entrance, fervently hoping all the while that Blaise was still asleep or already at breakfast. He was reluctant to face the Slytherin too. In fact, he would have skipped going back to his room and gone straight for a solitary breakfast if not for the fact that he was still clad in his pajamas. Dashing as he was in nightwear, it was a grievous, criminal offense for a Malfoy to be seen in public in such outfits.

Stepping into the room as the portrait swung open, he froze, coming face to face with Blaise.

"Hey," he offered, not sure whether even a one word greeting would set off his roommate and thus bracing himself to face an irate and argumentative Blaise.

Blaise raked his hand through his hair tiredly, not meeting Draco's gaze. Draco shifted in his position, willing Blaise to say something to break the tension that permeated the air.

"Look here, Draco," Blaise said finally. "I've been a right pillock lately, I know. Stress of the competition getting to me, I guess. I haven't exactly been partnered with brilliant dancers so my performances haven't been top standard."

"S'fine," he replied noncommittally, though he was actually thinking something along the lines of _about ruddy time_ and _don't push the blame, you haven't been inspiring shock and awe with your dancing skills either_.

"I wasn't apologizing," Blaise saw fit to remind him. Well, if he wanted to see it that way, then Draco would gracefully acquiesce.

"Right." He smirked.

"Where were you last night?"

His smirk faded. "Had trouble sleeping... so I took a walk and accidentally fell asleep in the Meeting Place," Draco answered, feigning nonchalance, hoping to Merlin that no one had noticed Granger outside with him and passed on the message to Blaise. Without waiting for a reply, he rushed on.

"So are you going to let me in?" He gestured towards their room, of which Blaise was blocking his entrance.

"You going to let me out?"

He was relieved to locate a light and teasing note in Blaise's voice, which led him to conclude that his friend was no longer pissed and their comradeship would continue as per normal. Blaise pushed past him, leaving Draco with the room all to himself. After taking his time washing up, donning a forest green robe, and combing his blonde hair, he apparated to the dining hall. It was relatively full, as it seemed that most dancers took the opportunity to sleep in close to noon and made it in time for lunch instead.

Finding a lone table, he sat down by himself and ordered pork chops and boiled potatoes, which appeared on his plate lickety-split. Draco tucked in enthusiastically and made quick work of his food, whittling down the meat and devouring it with gusto, maintaining the appropriate decorum in spite of his voracious appetite. Even when hungry, he refused to stoop to the standard of say, Weasley. He had seen the redhead at meals back in Hogwarts, shoveling down his food with the grace and propriety of a Kneazle. Upon polishing off his meal, he found his hunger not to be sated, and promptly ordered a treacle tart. And then another. And another. After all, Malfoy figured as he ate his fourth treacle tart, they were very small ones really, and anyway, a good dancer needs his energy!

* * *

Hermione got up off the couch, arching her back in a effort to stretch out her cramped back muscles. Giving the room a quick once over, she realised that Malfoy had gone, and had oh so helpfully transfigured his blanket back to a cushion. Glancing at the clock, she saw with a measure of surprise, she had slept in till noon. She mentally berated herself. She hardly ever slept in. With quick strides, she made her way to her room, gained entryway from the portrait, of whom she had built quite a friendly relationship with, and entered the room.

A surprising sight met her eyes. There was Ginny sitting cross legged on her bed, clad in Muggle clothing, as dancers had the option to wear wizarding or muggle clothing out of dance class, whatever struck their fancy that day. And next to the redhead, there was a tray, laden with food. Pumpkin juice, baked beans, rashers, hash browns, scones, mushrooms, sausages, grilled tomatoes, sunny-side up eggs, toast and waffles, enough to feed a small army, was piled artistically on various plates, presenting a pleasing, and not to mention tantalizing and mouth watering sight.

"I thought we'd have breakfast in bed!" exclaimed Ginny cheerfully, as if it was perfectly normal to have your roommate missing the entire night and then stroll in at noon.

"Isn't it lunchtime?"

"To eat well in England, you must have breakfast at least three times a day," Ginny quipped.

"Nice seeing you so chipper," Hermione muttered.

"Of course I'm cheerful! I got top last night!" she squealed, jumping up and down on the bed as best as she could in her seated position, shaking the tray rather precariously, the jug of pumpkin juice on the verge toppling.

"Right! Brilliant! Good on you, of course, let's celebrate!" Hermione agreed, rushing forward to steady the tray and taking a seat beside Ginny. Well, if she wasn't going to ask about her absence, she wouldn't broach the subject. In fact, she was grateful that Ginny had seemed to have forgotten about it all. Hermione grabbed a plate from the tray and motioned for Ginny to do the same.

She took a swig of pumpkin juice, selected suitably juicy looking sausage, and started to eat. The girls ploughed their way steadily through the tasty breakfast, maintaining a comfortable, friendly silence as the focused at the task at hand - eating.

"Mmm," Ginny sighed rapturously, "This is good stuff."

Hermione laughed, Ginny looked so content and happy munching on her scone liberally smeared with condiments.

"I agree! I didn't know you could order that much food and bring it to the room too."

"Well, I made friends with one of the house elves and she helped me transport the food here." Hermione opened her mouth to protest about the house elves bit, but Ginny silenced her with an accusing glare. "And, I had to charm it to keep it all warm. You took ages. Where were you?"

Ah, the dreaded question. To answer it honestly, or to fabricate an explanation? Maybe she should delicately and deliberately skirt the question. Hermione battled it out while ingesting her toast. Eventually, the truth won out. After all, Hermione was a stickler for such honesty.

"Uh," dragged Hermione, delaying the moment with a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

"Iwaskeepingdracocomapny," she blurted, all in a rush.

"What?"

Hermione felt her cheeks heating up. Bugger it all! "I was keeping Malfoy company," she said slowly and evenly.

"Ah, I see," Ginny grinned cheekily. "Why was that?"

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. "Nothing even close to what you're thinking now," she informed her snottily.

"Alright," Ginny said good-naturedly. "Wanna talk about it?"

"No thanks," she returned, finishing off her toast. She didn't like the way Ginny was looking at her. Like the cat's been at the cream. Hermione suddenly felt the overwhelming need to be by herself and think things through.

"You know what," she told Ginny. "I think I'm full. I think I'm going to, uh, go out for a bit."

"Mmhmm." Ginny said mildly, still smiling to herself. "I'll be here if you need me."

Well, of course. She looked quite satisfied surrounded by the remains of their hearty English breakfast. Hermione wrinkled her nose, and pushed herself off the bed. Whenever in doubt, whenever in need of some good solitary time, there was only one place to go.

The library.

She readied herself to apparate, but was stopped by Ginny's comment.

"Hermione," the witch said, amusement colouring her voice. "You're still in your pajamas."

* * *

After scowling at Ginny and dressing in sea green robes, Hermione spent a few, refreshing hours in the library, submerging herself in a pile of books taller than she was. She was satisfied indeed with what she learned from dusty tomes. (the library wasn't really often used by the hotel guests.) She re-read _A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions _as well as _Where There's a Wand, There's a Way, __Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms, and __Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century. _She even read_____Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches _for a laugh, it was an amusing and ridiculous read. There was a whole chapter devoted to compliments and half of which, she was sure would not even work on her.

Her mind drifted off, and she thought of Malfoy. In one night, he had managed to sufficiently vindicate himself. Instead of anger, instead of burning injustice, she felt a sort of empathy for the misunderstood boy. Hermione didn't pity him, though. She suspected Draco wouldn't want to be pitied.

She smiled softly to herself. They had grown close. Malfoy would probably never admit it, but it was the cold, hard truth. They had grown pretty close over dancing together. It was hard not to develop a friendship with someone when you had to memorize the planes of his body and synchronize yourself with him. And honestly, it was hard not to like him, simply because when she was it him, it was easy, it was familiar. He brought out a different side of her, and she was quite sure she brought out a softer side in him. Hermione had grown to appreciate his sharp wit and wealth of knowledge to rival her own. And after the previous night, with so much of Malfoy's behavior now explained to her, it all made perfect sense.

At first, when he'd gotten protection from the Order, at Dumbledore's request of course, she had been just as suspicious as the lot of them. Everyone presumed he had forseen the defeat of the Dark side, and scarpered. But her feelings soon evolved into sympathy. Draco had been quiet, brooding even. And then he fought so bravely for their side that she came to believe that he had changed. But the blonde boy had sent it all straight down the gutter when they returned to Hogwarts as Head Girl and Head Boy, the Headmaster appointing him for reasons she couldn't possibly fathom. His acidic tongue and hostility angered her to no end, and made her regret ever thinking that he actually seen the error of his ways. But at least now, she understood.

If it were possible, she would even say that Malfoy's openness endeared him more to herself. But that was just plain awkward to admit. Like how it was awkward to admit that Malfoy made her pulse quicken and her heart hammer in her chest, that she felt inexplicably at home when she was around him, that she felt his touch long after he had left. But these were dangerous thoughts and she was treading in dangerous waters. What would Harry and Ron say if they knew she was consorting with the enemy? She shook her head to clear them of such thoughts and delved back into her books again.

The afternoon wore on, and half way through _The Hexed and The Vexed_, Hermione was disturbed by a burning sensation on her head. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but it annoyed her to be interrupted from her readings. She reached up to pat her head, and realised that the source of the heat was coming from the black ribbon she tied around her hair, the one the judges had asked them to keep on their person at all times. She quickly scanned it, and saw that they were required to meet at the Meeting Place...and she was 10 minutes late! She must have been to engrossed in her books to have noticed the warmth before. Quickly, she waved her wand, saying, "Mobiliarus!" and sent the books flying through the air and back to their respective places on the shelves. She then apparated to the appointed place in a hurry.

* * *

Draco Malfoy waited impatiently. Elphie couldn't start their meeting because of one late Granger. They were all seated around the Meeting Place and Elphie was leaning against the wall, seemingly unbothered by Granger's unpunctuality. He had knew where the bookworm was long before the She-Weasel offered to search for her. It was so obvious. Had free time, wanted to have a bit of fun, where would Granger go? The library, of course. Draco smirked to himself. It was sad, really, when going to the library was considered recreational.

Everyone else didn't seem affected by Granger's absence either. They were all seated in their pairs, chatting animatedly with each other. At first, Draco had mingled around with a few others, like Galinda and Kate and Eugene, as Blaise and Iris seemed to be in deep conversation. But he soon grew tired of being sociable and retreated to a corner to sit by himself.

Suddenly, heads jerked up as a loud crack was heard. Granger stumbled as she arrived in the Meeting Place, looking a little bit disorientated.

"Ah, Hermione!" Elphie said cheerfully, clad in simple black robes. "Come, join us. We were waiting for you!"

"I'm sorry!" she cried, her face pink and flustered. "I lost track of time."

"It's fine! None of us minded a bit," Elphie said, and motioned for her to sit next to Draco. She did, casting an apologetic glance in his direction, which he pretended not to notice. However, he was secretly glad that she was late, because he had a hunch that if she had arrived under any other pretext, well...awkward. Now Draco could hide under the cover of annoyance of her tardiness and there was no need for uncomfortable conversation that glossed over the topic of last night.

"Now, we'll be letting you guys know what sort of dance you'll be dancing for Round Three!" Elphie told them, and received a mixed reaction of anxious anticipation and excitement. She gestured beside her, where a nondescript box lay. No one had noticed it before. She reached down to pick it up and continued to explain.

"Alright guys, just so you know, you'll be staying in your pairs!" Granger turned to beam at him, but he deliberately paid her no attention even though he too was secretly pleased. She huffed and turned back to face Elphie.

"This time, it'll all be by chance! Send up one person to pick a piece of paper from this box here. Come on now, look sharp."

There was the usual mutterings and nudging. Draco was felt lazy to get up, so he decided to volunteer the girl next to him.

"You go," he told Granger imperatively, assuming she was not one to shirk responsibility.

"No, you go!" He was surprised when she refused.

"Why can't you go?" his voice bordered on a whine.

"Why can't you go!" she countered annoyingly.

"I'm having a backache," Draco lied, none too convincingly.

"And I'm having a headache," she childishly retorted.

"I'm having a stomache."

"I sprained my ankle."

"And I'm a prancing hippopotamus."

"What's that?" he asked, not catching her muggle animal reference, and then continued mock sorrowfully. "No matter. Really, Granger. How would you feel if I got up and immediately fell over and broke my neck because of my various injuries?"

"Overjoyed."

"Gee, aren't you just delightful. I'm sore from dancing yesterday."

"You think I'm not?"

"Why won't you just get up and go!"

"I don't feel like it." Granger crossed her hands over her chest and leaned back against the chair. So infuriating! Draco had a hunch she was doing it on purpose to pay him back for turning the cold shoulder earlier. He also realised they were only ones that hadn't sent a representative up.

"You were the one who made us all wait," Draco drawled meaningfully, playing the guilt card.

"Oh, fine," she grumbled. "Don't blame me if we get something bad."

He watched as she stood and stalked over to Elphie. Everyone delved their hands into the box, and withdrew a piece of paper. Granger pulled a face and made her way back to him.

"So what did we get?" Draco asked.

"Beats me," she shrugged, handing over a blank piece of paper.

He looked around the room. Most of the couples were rummaging for their wands. Realisation dawned on him.

"Are you a witch or not?" he said, amused that the bright and brilliant Granger hadn't come to the same conclusion everyone else had. Grasping his wand, he tapped the piece of paper. "Aparacium."

A grey, loopy handwriting started to form, spreading across the paper like the thin fibers of a spider web. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermi-Granger fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that," she admitted.

A wide grin spread across his face, partly because he one upped Granger, but also because he was reading the words that appeared on the blank card and it delighted him to no end. Triumphantly, he waved the slip of paper like a flag in front of Granger's face.

"Oi!" she attempted to snatch it, but Draco drew on his Seeker skills to deftly keep it out of her grasp. He grin grew increasingly larger as the brown haired witch became increasingly exasperated.

"Malfoy! Stop being childish and give it here!" demanded Hermione.

"Why should I?" he goaded.

Hermione took on a pained expression, and she replied him slowly, as if she were dealing with an extremely difficult kid. "Alright, Draco. Why don't you be a good boy and tell me what we're dancing?"

He lifted an eyebrow and adopted a ridiculous twang as he told her.

"Babyyyyy," he exaggerated. "We're doing the samba."

He did a little happy jig in his head.

"Samba! Bother. I'm not very good at it," Hermione confessed.

He halted in his happy jig to reassure her. "Oh, don't worry, I am!"

He was rewarded with a glare for his efforts.

* * *

**AN: **Like it, love it, can't stand it? Please review! Am nearly finished with the next chapter so I may post it up quicker:D


	15. Defining Moments

**AN:** Here's a quicker upload! Please review so we can hit 100 :D Anyways, this is my favourite chapter. Ever! I hope you'll read and find you feel the same way. Anyway my exams are coming really close so my updates will be coming rather infrequently and spasmodically. So please bear with me for the next two months and don't give up on this story! Oh, on a side note, I'm following Tom Felton on twitter and he's hilarious, really.

**Reviews: **Thanks to **Lollo-BookLOOVEER,123Aqua123, tigger93, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL ,TheWitchOfTheSouth** (Yeah i realised :p), **beautifly92 , BeccaSucks** (Thanks ever so much, you're the best really! Following this story since the beginning. Yeah I agree its amazing!)**,Karate Chic , LadyOfTheLancashireManor **(Thanks!),**Nicconicco (**thank you dear! Here's a quicker upload for you!)

* * *

**Chapter 14. Defining Moments**

That night, Hermione woke up in the wee hours of the morning, feeling peckish. Swinging her legs out of bed, she padded out of the room into the hallway, where she was able to Apparate without causing disturbance. She apparated to the Dining Hall, intent on getting a midnight snack. Unsure of what to, standing in the semi darkness of the hall, she looked around, squinting. The only light source came from a few flickering flames from the torches, casting long shadows on the walls. Most of the torches had already been snuffed out. She fished her wand out of her favourite light blue flannel pajama bottom's pocket. "Lumos," she whispered, and the tip of her wand shone with astonishing brightness, lighting the way for her. She walked over to the counter at the side of the Dining Hall, and looked down at it.

"I don't know if you can hear me," she said loudly, feeling rather silly speaking to the air. "And I don't want to trouble you...but if I could get a plate of cookies and milk, it'd be lovely." Hermione knew that the House Elves were probably still doing their scullery work down in the kitchen and didn't want to be a bother. However, she added quietly, "A bit of Butterbeer would be very much appreciated too."

It was a little vice of hers. Butterbeer, for all intents and purposes, had a little alcoholic content, and Hermione never could hold her liquor well so even Butterbeer induced slight tipsiness. However, Hermione liked it when she mixed Butterbeer and milk together, it made for surprisingly soothing drink whenever she couldn't sleep, even though it caused her to be a bit woozy afterwards. She didn't really share her little quirk with others, Ron had scoffed at her when she hinted that it may have tasted good.

The house elves seemed to be very obliging, and procured a whole plate of yummy looking chocolate chip cookies, a tall glass of milk and a whole bottle of Butterbeer for her. Hermione grabbed it all, and made her way carefully to the nearest table to sit. After mixing two parts Butterbeer with three parts milk, she sat back, enjoyed her drink and munched on the cookies.

After awhile, her eyelids started to droop, and she decided to take a slow walk back to her room instead of apparating to the hallway, which indicated taking the risk of upchucking the contents in her stomach, ending up in an entirely different continent altogether, or passing out on the floor . Clutching her unfinished drink, she started the leisurely stroll back to her room.

It took her longer than expected, as she stopped to take occasional swigs of Butterbeer milk from her glass, and she wasn't walking at a very fast pace either. When she finally reached the Waiting Room, her glass was at the half mark, which did say something as it seemed to be magically refilling itself. Hermione decided to sit down and have a bit of rest. However, it seemed that once again, she was not alone.

Draco Malfoy was sleeping on a fat armchair, his head lolling, an opened Daily Prophet lying in his lap. Hermione tiptoed forward to take a look, her Butterbeer milk sloshing in the glass. Peering over the sleeping Draco's shoulder, she saw that a report on a newly imposed ban of winged and levitating shoes had been the thing that had lulled him to sleep out of the comforts of his own bed. She leaned down even further to take a closer look. Suddenly, Malfoy jerked and whimpered and his hand nearly whacked Hermione's face, missing it by near inches. She quickly moved her head away and shook his shoulder, knowing he must have been suffering from his nightmares again. Goodness, how often did these things happen? Every night? The poor boy. Gently, she shook him some more.

"Draco," Hermione said in his ear, "Wake up!"

He did so, his head snapping up to look at her, unguarded and fearful. She couldn't bear it, couldn't be bothered to think if she'd regret it later. Clumsily, she put down her drink and enfolded him in a hug, patting his back soothingly, arms tightening around him. She could feel him take a deep, shuddering breath.

"Hermione," he mumbled into shoulder.

"S'okay, Draco," she said in hushed tones. "S'okay."

And surprisingly enough, he didn't pull away.

* * *

After that, it became an unspoken agreement for both Draco and Hermione to sneak out of their rooms and sleep in the Meeting Place, and then slip back into their beds at the crack of dawn, just before anyone could notice their absence. Sometimes, they didn't even speak to each other, just noted each other's presence, and took comfort in it as the night wore on. Other times, they exchanged a few friendly words, talking about the events that conspired during the day over a plate of cookies and a drink of Butterbeer milk that Draco agreed was undeniably tasty. Once, they talked about the war, divulging the difficult, sometimes traumatizing experiences and their own personal losses. They discussed their relief when Harry had finished You Know Who off for good in the Forbidden Forest, and at what price. They even broached the topic of Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment in Azkaban. But most importantly, when Hermione slept a sofa away from him, Draco's terrifying, emotionally draining nightmares ceased.

Their friendship blossomed, out of daytime banter and nighttime rendezvous. People noticed, commented, gossiped, and grew to accept it. The only one who didn't share in their element of surprise was the She Weasel, who wore a look that, if put into words, uncannily translated to_ I told you so._ It infuriated Hermione quite a bit. Even Blaise and Iris, though they were initially disquieted, managed to reconcile themselves to the fact that Draco actually had a true blue muggleborn friend. He completely understood. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around that idea himself.

"She's got you whipped, mate," commented Blaise when they had walked to dance class together with Iris.

"Merlin's pants! Don't get ahead of yourself, she's not my girlfriend!" replied Draco, fairly amused.

"Yeah, but it's a pretty close thing," said Blaise gravely.

Iris had subsequently linked arms with Draco and said plaintively, "Let's not talk about her."

"But honestly, I'm not fussed. She's hot," Blaise conceded, disregarding the witch.

"You're mental!" Iris protested hotly.

"Yeah," Draco laughed, ignoring and disengaging himself from Iris's hold. "But you'll never get near enough to tap that!"

The snubbed dancer rolled her eyes. "_Boys!_"

Draco was glad to have Hermione as a friend, though. Sometimes he even joined her for meals with the She Weasel, and they engaged in spirited conversation and debates. The first time he had walked over to sit with Hermione, the littlest of the Weasley brood had stared at him for a good five minutes before she could bring herself to eat. He dismissed Hermione's idea that it was because of shock and instead attributed it to the fact that he had been having a particularly good hair day.

And it wasn't that they didn't argue anymore. They argued plenty. In fact they argued seventy five percent of the time, but there had been a pivotal, you could say, focal shift in their disagreements. They agreed to disagree. And their arguments had rapidly lost their venom, adopting a tamer form and even turned into playful banter most of the time. They argued about everything under the sun, about a certain Ancient Runes translation, or Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, whether Chocolate Eclairs were slices of heaven on earth, and if pick up lines would ever work on a girl. Draco attested himself to be a living testimony of the fact that it did whereas Hermione scoffed at the idea, and prided herself to be resistant to even the most suave one-liners. While on that topic, she dragged him to the library mid-lunch and showed him a ridiculous book_ Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. _She had made a joke out of it all, until Draco too was laughing fit to burst.

"You have the portkey to my heart," she snorted, giggling derisively.

Draco read the next one, wincing at how cheesy it sounded. "You must be magical, because I've fallen under your spell."

"Do you have a map? I'm getting lost in your eyes!" Hermione had laughed even louder.

"You're so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line...which loser came up with this one!"

"You're like a dictionary, you add meaning to my life!"

"Ah yes, that suits you nicely, Granger!" he teased before admitting to the sad and sorry truth.

"God, these_ are_ terrible."

Then Hermione blushed red, not because she was smitten by his undeniable charm, but because for the first time in her life, the librarian had stormed up from behind to shush them.

Slowly but surely, Draco was being introduced to the muggle world by a devious and sneaky Hermione Granger. His vocabulary had been expanded to include words like Wii gaming and cars, both of which intrigued him greatly. He had walked in on her flipping a muggle magazine with a picture of a semi-good looking bloke leaning on a shiny, red _thing_. Upon politely inquiring on her reading material, she had explained to him all the intricacies of sports cars and Formula One races. Seemed that these Muggles used cars as a sorry substitute for brooms. However, he was scandalized to find that muggles used broomsticks to, horror upon horrors, sweep the floor! Merlin, how degrading.

Once, he had seen her use a sleek, rectangular object to talk to her parents. It worked like magic and he had been transfixed. The screen had lit up and you could change the images that appeared with a flick of a finger. Subsequently, he had nicked it and tried to figure out how to use to it but the damned thing had remained blank. Unfortunately, before he could have another go at it, she found out.

"Malfoy," she had said, none too patiently. "Are you going to return me my iPhone now?" They had progressed to a first name basis and Hermione only called him Malfoy when she was annoyed, or wanted to annoy.

"What's an eye-tone?"

"iPhone, Draco, iPhone. It's my mobile! A shiny, rectangle thing, you know, the device I used to phone my parents the other day?"

"Haven't a clue what you're saying," he replied innocently, lying through his teeth.

Too bad she hadn't believed him. Curiosity had also bested Draco, and he Summoned the phone and she showed him how to work it. He had been amazed at how slick the device was, and didn't let Granger have her phone back for the rest of the day while he played with the applications. There had been an amused glint in her eyes, though, that led Draco to suspect that the conniving witch had planned to pique his interest.

They had also started choreography for their new piece of work. Though Hermione had been less than enthusiastic to dance the tango, he had been completely thrilled. He loved ballroom dancing in any shape and form. He was determined to make Hermione adore the dance just as much as him. Well, not adore. He would have substituted it with a much more macho word but none had come to mind.

Their choreographers were actual wizards and witches this time. Draco was grateful that he could benefit from the expertise of real live humans this time, especially for a type of dance he liked. They were fun, beautiful people, a tall, shapely blonde called Bree and an even taller black haired man called Tim. On their first lesson, intent on impressing Hermione with his unerring skills, Draco pulled Bree into a closed position and began to expertly navigate the room, shaking their hips and executing precise and tricky footwork. He proved himself an excellent lead as brought Bree through a complicated sequence of twists, turns, exchanges, lifts and splits. He succeeded in impressing Bree very much, but failed miserably where Hermione was concerned and ended up intimidating her instead, which didn't make her anymore comfortable with tango than she already was.

It was after their third lesson that most of their choreography was completed. During the lesson, they had been filmed for quite a bit, for their video clip for the next round of competition. After that Bree and Tim had left them alone to practice and work things out by themselves. The wizard, a stocky looking fellow by the name of Hugo, asked them to wait around for him, he would come back after filming the rest to do their interviews. They had agreed.

Draco practiced his steps at the side of the barre, twisting and manipulating his hips with the grace and ease of a seasoned professional, making the move seem effortless and at the same time incredibly sexy. In the reflection of the mirror, he could see Hermione struggling to master a certain tricky step.

"Need help?" he called.

"No," she growled back irritably. Draco bit back a retort, knowing that she was tired and frustrated. Wisps of hair were escaping from her bun and her face was tinged red from exertion. He sighed, and continued to go through his steps.

Time passed, a slow trickling of minutes, and Draco soon grew tired of practicing and relaxed against the barre casually observing his partner.

"Want to practice together?" he offered affably, uncharacteristically.

Hermione huffed in return. "Fine. But don't blame me if I mess up five seconds into it."

Draco looked suitably disbelieving. "You won't. Come on now."

He fiddled around with the knobs of their magical radio, trying to get it to play their song.

"Blast," he cursed. "I can never get this damn thing to work."

"That's because you never watched our instructors doing it," Hermione chastised gently.

"How bout' a hand then?"

He was interrupted by Hugo entering through the sliding panels, heaving his black, dangerous looking video camera. Draco didn't trust the black device. Introduced after the War, most wizards had treated the device with apprehension and mistrust. Hermione had explained to him the mechanics of it, and that it was powered by magic, but Draco still felt like the new fangled gadget invaded his space. In some respects, he prided himself as a traditionalist. In others...he smirked. Well, not so much.

"You ready guys?" Hugo asked them amicably.

Draco sneaked a quick look at the mirror. His hair was in perfect condition, his black track pants and emerald green tight fitting tee showcased his toned body, and he was his usual suave and charming self. "Ready," he answered quickly.

Hugo switched on his camera, and started to film. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Hermione beat him to the punch.

"Not ready!" his partner squeaked a tad too late, gazing at her reflection despairingly. Draco didn't see a problem with Hermione's appearance. Her hair was tamed into a bun, with a few strands of brown curls dangling down, which framed her face in a way that didn't seem so much messy as it did casual. She had donned a grey tank top and shorts that showed off her curves and slender legs... Draco thought she looked riveting. Not that he'd tell her that. Ever.

"You'll never be ready," he informed her. "You'll always pale in comparison to me."

Hermione glared at him fiercely. Draco simply shrugged. "Humility was never one of my gifts."

"Too right!" Hermione fervently agreed.

"But," he smiled wolfishly. "I'll have you know I always tell the truth."

His clever remark got him a whack on the arm.

Hugo laughed out loud at their exchange. "How's the dance going?" he prompted.

"Well," Hermione prodded Draco with her index finger as he preened. "This guy's a natural. Me, not so much. I'm not so familiar with ballroom." She frowned. "The terms, the techniques, they're all quite alien to me, I hope I'll be able to master it by the end of the week!"

"And if she can't," Draco supplied, lazily draping his arm over Hermione's shoulder. "I'm good enough for the both of us."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she said sardonically.

"However," Draco waffled on, unperturbed. "The passion, the love, the heat of the dance, we got it down pat." He pushed Hermione in front of him, twirled her around, held her close to his body, such that their noses were almost touching. He swore that she became slightly pink and breathless, and it wasn't front exertion this time.

"You see," he said very convincingly. "Just look at her face. You can see it, plain as day. She _wants _me."

"The only thing I want," Hermione retorted hastily, having recovered her powers of speech and wiggling herself free of him, "Is for you to shut up. Prat." She folded her hands across her chest.

"She secretly fancies me," Draco assured the scary black gizmo that was recording his every move. "I can tell."

"Hugo," Hermione smiled charmingly. "I think we've done enough filming for today. It's way past Draco's bedtime."

Hugo chuckled as he switched off his camera and packed up. "You two are hilarious," he told them.

Draco took that to be a compliment. Without preamble, without waiting for Hugo to leave, he waltzed up to Hermione and grabbed her by the waist.

"Merlin!" Hermione squealed again, in tandem with the whoosh of the sliding panels that indicated Hugo's exit.

"Aren't you jumpy today," Draco observed. "I was merely going to suggest we continue dancing."

"Oh," she said faintly. Was it just him, or did she seem slightly disappointed?

Without letting go of her, Draco grabbed his wand and cast a spell, hoping and praying, that it would get the radio to work. It did. A slow, rhythmic piece of music emitted from the magically enhanced speakers.

"Milady," he said gallantly, stepping away from her and bowing gracefully.

"Honestly, did someone cast a cheering charm on you? You're in such a good mood today."

"I think you're the one in desperate need of it," he said, guiding her hand to rest on his waist. Draco led her through the basic steps of the Samba, slowly and patiently, so that she would relax. She did, and leaned into his grip.

"This isn't that bad." she confided as Draco increased the speed ever so slightly.

"Mm, told you so." With a flick of his wand, he changed the song to their actual performing one. Hey, he was getting the hand of the stereo thing! Maybe you weren't to touch the knobs at all, one only needed to use your wand.

"What do you say? Let's try the routine out," Draco said mildly.

Hermione looked intimidated by the fast paced music. "Not promising a stellar performance," she hedged.

"Who cares!" Draco encouraged. Hermione looked fairly scandalized. "No one's watching. Go with it!"

He started dancing their sequence, expertly executing the tricky footwork in a very snazzy way. Hermione soon joined in, shaking her hips loosely and twisting her feet. She was doing fine, Draco thought.

"Like this," he said, and put his hands gently on her hips, applying pressure to rock them side to side. He stepped back to observe.

"Loosen up your torso..." he advised, now dancing with her. "That's it, that's it, now sharper. Good, do it a bit quicker...faster, yes, you've got it." He let his hand skim down the side of body, ghosting around the her curves, and he felt her shiver under his touch. Sparks like electricity went through both of them, but they continued dancing fluidly while more and more of these jolts occurred. It was incredibly sensual, the very antithesis of their friendship they had built up. With his other free arm, he loosely grasped her right hand and brushed it against his lips as they traversed the floor. Whoa, there cowboy. Not part of the plan.

Their bodies pulled close together, then they slid apart. She did a jazz kick in the air, he grabbed hold of her leg, placed it over his shoulder, and performed the complicated lift that Bree had taught them. Effortlessly, he twirled her, his eyes feasting on the sight of her gorgeous form and beautiful dancing. He admired the way they danced together, their hips moving in perfect synchrony as they spun round. There was an intensity pervading the air, almost suffocating in its potency. He pulled her into the required embrace and felt her suppress a shiver. They stood there slightly longer then was necessary, entertaining the idea that they just may be dancing together for other reasons besides the competition, and savouring the new, unknown feeling that was enveloping them. Pulling apart, she stepped on his foot.

"Drats!" Hermione cried, effectively ending the dance. She pushed away from him and walked to the other side of the room to the barre. If you could call it a side, that is, as the room was perfectly circular.

"I can't do this!" she vented loudly, punctuating each exclamation with a_ grand battement. _"I can't, I can't, I simply can't! I am utterly disgraceful at ballroom!"_ kick. _"I can't dance at all! Stupid, stupid, samba!" _kick_. "I can't move my hips fast enough and my arms aren't smooth enough and my feet keep getting twisted and tangled because of these bloody heels-" she removed them and tossed them aside viciously as she spoke. "-And we have only two more days to clean the item up and I'll totally bring us down during the performance and we'll get kicked off before you can say Crumple-Horned Snorcacks, which don't even exist, just so you know!"

She paused to draw in a deep breath before executing an admirably high kick, and then continuing with vehemence," And it'll be all my fault and you'll just hate me for eternity. And I look so _fat _today! And my hair frizzed like mad during the filming and I just know my head is going to resemble a brown pygmy puff on video-" Draco found that he was disagreeing more and more with each statement she made. "- and I look so ghastly and hideous today. My grey top makes me look like a granny-" Draco fervently disagreed with this. "- and I don't hold a candle next to you. I need-" _kick. _"To succeed-"_ kick_. "-In this damn competition!" _kick_. "I need-"_kick_"To prove-"_ kick_ "I'm something other than a prudish bookworm!"

Draco couldn't stand her constant put downs any longer. In fact, he was rather mad that she even felt that way about herself. She was Hermione Granger. She was the ultimate library of information no one else could, or bothered to, remember, with everything placed in specific categories and organized according to alphabetical order and level of importance. She was the perfectionist of the century.

"You don't need to prove anything," he said furiously.

"Yes I do! You don't understand!" She turned sharply to the other side and started g_rand battements_ on her other leg. "I need-" _kick_ "-To be perfect! I'm supposed to be good at everything! It's so frustrating when I'm not in control, when I'm not at my best.."

She continued along on that vein, and Draco wanted nothing more for her to stop. Should he cast a Silencio on her? Or give her a Calming Draught? It hardly seemed tactful though, to brandish his wand in her face or shove a potion down her throat. Then again, since when was he ever a sensitive chap? To hell with it! He hadn't the foggiest idea how to console hysterical females.

"Merlin!" he cried, stalking forward. "Would you just shut up!"

"...see that twist right _there_, after we do _this_? Yeah, I can't that either! No matter how many times I try! I'm an incapable little-"

Roughly, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him. That successfully stunned her into silence.

"For heaven's sake, woman," he growled, watching her eyes widen in surprise. "Just. Shut. Up."

Somehow, Hermione managed to gather her wits, and voiced protest, "But I'm really, really, not good enough-"

"Granger!"

Draco had enough. He honestly couldn't see why she could view herself as anything less than perfection. If anyone wasn't good enough, it was him, Draco Malfoy, master of depravity. She needed to stop talking. Now.

So his head swiftly descended and tenderly, gently and firmly, he kissed her, his hands reaching up to frame her face, as he silenced her insecurities once and for all.


	16. Nothing Like It

**AN:** Heh, I suppose you totally saw their kiss coming. OH WELL. I am captain obvious. I hope you liked the last chapter anyway:D And I hope you like this one too! My next update may be a little longer wait than usual, I haven't finished it yet, see. Read and Review please! It's awesome this story's topped a hundred!

**Reviews: beautifly92 **Thanks, glad you think so! T**heWitchOfTheSouth** Aww, thanks so much, you're such a dear. I like your decision:D **Lollo-BookLOOVEER** Yay I'm happy you liked it!** LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL** Thanks for your faithful reviewings! **Nicconicco** You made my day too, with your lovely review! Hahah, thats quite funny. **Sam-EvansBlu**e Thanks for your comments, yeah I do love dance! I'll read through my story and fix those errors soon! missygrace101 Thanks(: **BeccaSucks** Oh my yeah! I never thought of that, it is pretty cool. Yes, FINALLY. They kiss! Thanks for always reviewing this story! **CourtneyUchiha94** Haha, true that, best way ever! Wish you the best of luck! **Dusty Brow**n I'm glad I merit a place on your alert list, thanks for the review! **Thecla** Updated! **Karate Chic** haha, yeah, quite a rant wasn't it!**LadyOfTheLancashireManor** Your review really made me and find out yeah! I really hope so, it would be lovely if you could:D

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**Chapter 15. There's Nothing Like It**

It wasn't like Draco expected. It felt like a smoldering flame was steadily consuming his body, setting his heart and emotions aflame. Overwhelmed with an incredible yearning to continue in his current activities, slowly and reluctantly, he pulled his head away. Staring at a speechless Hermione whose eyes were wide with shock and some other unidentifiable emotion simmering beneath the surface, he cursed to himself. Damn, he thought, relaxing his grip on her. Perhaps she hadn't felt it, he thought with a sinking heart, shocking himself with the amount of disappointment that welled up within him. Maybe she hadn't experienced the slow burning of desire, the sweet lingering feeling of the kiss they had shared.

"Draco..." Hermione ventured, looking away and covering her mouth with her hand.

He waited expectantly, preparing himself for all possible responses. Maybe she'd say it was a mistake and set Potty and Weasel on him. Or maybe, she'd grab him, snog him passionately and ravish him right there and then on the dance floor. Draco hoped wholeheartedly it was the latter.

Then, suddenly she turned and ran with surprising speed and agility, out of the sliding panels and out his line of sight. Draco sighed, and slumped against the barre, massaging his forehead with his hands. _"What did you expect, Draco?"_ he berated himself silently. _"Honestly, what did you expect?"_

The answer presented itself to him, but he chose to ignore it and proceed out of the dance studio, inevitably and very alone.

He had expected, perchance, be loved.

* * *

That night, Hermione tossed and turned guiltily in bed, envious of Ginny's undisturbed sleep. She had broken their nighttime ritual of sneaking out to the Meeting Place, and she was now facing retribution of being deprived of her much needed rest. But really, she was at loss of what to do! Their kiss had been undoubtedly captivating and in every aspect, spellbinding and wonderful. It had awoken feelings that Hermione had been working terrifically hard to suppress and these emotions had surfaced with vengeance. Draco had probably only kissed her to shut her up. He hadn't felt the slow seeping of tenderness and intimacy that she did. What was a witch to do? She couldn't face him now.

After another good hour of sleeplessness, she gave up. After over four long nights spent roughing it out on sofas, the mattress and duvets were too luxurious that it was suffocating. Shoving off the covers, she gritted her teeth and shuffled out to the Meeting Place, praying to the gods that Draco would be, by hook or crook, already asleep, or not even there. Shutting her eyes, she tiptoed out of the hallway feeling rather childish with her hands outstretched in front of her. She was quite sure she looked quite a sight wrapped in her rather fluffy ocean blue dressing gown with her hair a brown frizzy disaster zone and her eyes screwed determinedly shut. She fumbled for the door and opened it.

"Hey... Her-Granger."

Blast! He was there. She cracked open an eye. Draco was perched on a fat armchair, sipping a drink from a ceramic mug and hovering a plate of cookies onto the side table. He looked relaxed, casual, and slightly amused at her comical entrance, but the slight falter in his speech betrayed his innate nervousness.

"You're here," she said awkwardly, dropping her hands to her side, feeling extremely unsure whether she ought to join him or run faster than Ron confronted with spiders.

"Er, want some?" Draco offered, holding up his mug. Hermione inched forward slowly, looking warily at the drink.

"What is it?"

"Milk and Butterbeer," he said shrugging. He avoided looking in her eyes, seeming almost as disconcerted as she was. "Couldn't sleep," he admitted.

Hermione was surprised. She thought he'd be all cocky and teasing or silent and tense. Not sitting nervously and proffering her favourite drink. She grasped the mug and took a sip, enjoying the comforting warm feeling the drink brought. Moving to the armchair next to Draco, she took a seat.

"Couldn't sleep either," she found herself admitting.

"Oh?" He quirked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Dunno," she muttered thickly, taking another swig from the mug and turning away, trying desperately to conceal her reddening cheeks.

"It's my drink, you know," he reminded her.

"Right, yes, sorry," Hermione said hastily, returning the mug and almost spilling all it's contents. She blushed even harder, and she felt like crawling into a hole and dying there. Merlin, she was such a klutz! It was worse than the time when Pansy jinxed her on April Fools to trip every five steps she took. Harry and Ron, once exacting revenge on Pansy and making her grow a four foot long beard, had found it immensely funny, especially when she tripped in the corridor and threw herself into the arms of Professor Trelawney, knocking the professor's perfectly circular glasses right off her nose. Luckily, Pansy wasn't much at Charms and the spell didn't last that long. _Idiot,_ she mentally scolded.

"Whoa, easy there, Hermione!" Draco said, setting the mug on the table. He grinned at her suddenly. It seemed the more embarrassed Hermione became, the more confident Draco grew. She averted her gaze. _Oh, _she thought despairingly. _This is so awkward! Our friendship is all ruined! Stupid, stupid Samba!_

"Cookie?" he asked, pointing to the plate on the table. She took one and held it in her hand, not trusting herself to eat it. With her luck she'd choke and cough and spew cookie crumbs all over Draco's undoubtedly expensive pajamas.

"You know," he continued, watching her. He was definitely amused now, and the previous uneasiness had completely vanished from his features. "Food's meant to be eaten, not crushed to pulp in your hand."

Hermione scowled ferociously at him and took a tentative bite of her cookie. Draco chewed thoughtfully on his own, and they lapsed into a strained silence. She could hear the rhythmic ticking of the clock as minutes passed and the tension in the room only heightened. It was absolutely nerve wracking and the whole situation was only made worse when Hermione reached blindly down for another cookie and found herself clutching Draco's hand.

She winced, snatching her hand back as if she'd been burned. "Sorry," she managed, feeling a tingling sensation in her fingers.

Draco didn't say anything, just stared at her with some unreadable emotion inscribed on his face, and then looked down at his hands.

"You took long enough to get here," he asked her pointedly.

"Er, well I-"

"Wasn't planning on coming down?" he cut in shrewdly. "And why was that?"

Her mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, making no sounds whatsoever. She willed herself to speak.

"Why was that?" he pushed, no longer amused. "Were you bent on avoiding me then?"

"Malfoy...please stop," she said hopelessly.

"Malfoy now, is it? Alright, _Granger_. Why do you want me to stop? Scared, are you? Our little War Hero, the brains of the Golden Trio, scared? Don't want to think about what you might hear?" he taunted, his features twisting in anger, posturing himself to project authority with his back completely straight and his shoulders held tautly. His gaze was burning and intense.

Hermione was horrified that she had provoked such a reaction. "Draco," she said quietly. "Draco...you know it's not like that."

All the fight seemed to go out of him and he slumped against the cushions.

"I'm sorry," she went on, trying to convey her sincerity in the weight of her words. "I was confused, and surprised. I didn't know what to do."

She then looked at him. Really looked. His white-blonde hair was a tad messy, falling into his eyes ever so slightly, but it looked soft and smooth and shone slightly like spun gold in the dimmed lightings. His skin, though still impossibly fair, no longer held the pasty paleness of his schooling day. His black shirt was left half unbuttoned, and shadows played across his muscular chest in the flickering lamplight. His face, so very flawless, seemed to have been chiseled by a great artiste who took great pains to ensure he was nothing less than perfection personified. There was no denying it, Draco Malfoy was utterly gorgeous.

She lifted her gaze to his face. Her heart was doing strange palpitations within her, her cheeks were flushed, the nesting butterflies were called once more to action in her stomach. Hermione's throat got all dry at the memory of how softly his lips had brushed across hers just a few hours ago. She focused on those lips, wondering if they would possibly cause her the same torrent of emotion if they, so happened to, just maybe, snog again. Not because she _wanted_ to, oh definitely not. Just to prove her bothersome and very persistent imagination (that kept trying to convince her he _just_ might harbour feelings for her) wrong. She mustn't expect anything else. What ever had happened between her and Draco in the studio had been impulsive and a mistake. She had to make herself believe that, she simply had to!

Hermione lifted her eyes to meet his. Those enigmatic silver-grey eyes, sometimes warily guarded, rarely ever betraying hints of the shifting and roiling emotions beneath the surface. Those eyes, sometimes burning and penetrating with its intensity. Those eyes that enthralled her with an almost magnetic hold, those eyes that now read of a careful and controlled sadness.

She got up abruptly, and made her way over to Draco, her heart hammering madly in her chest, and her cheeks flushing wildly. His face registered a look a surprise.

"Just to check," she murmured, hoping she came across much braver than she felt. She reached up to cup his cheek and brought her lips to meet his.

There it was again, that burning feeling that made her insides feel like molten lava, that made her feel like liquid fire was rushing through her veins. Despite the softness of it, the contact was hot and smouldering in its intensity and once again Hermione felt the a sensation of entrancement. The kiss was one of yearning, one of longing. It was unbearably sweet. After several long moments-or it could've been a couple hours, she'd lost all sense of time- she broke contact, hurriedly scanning his face for any sign of regret or disgust. She saw none, and instead his gaze was so affectionate, that cliched as it was, it made her go weak in the knees.

Instinctively she opened her mouth to apologise, but when Draco's finger brushed against her lips to shush her gently, she lost all train of thought.

"Shh, don't." He fondly...dare she think it, l_ovingly_, tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "It's not a mistake." He stood up in a single fluid movement, and rested his hands on her waist. Oh, oh, what was he going to do? Was he going to snog her again? Where should she put her hands? What would it mean? Did he _like_ her?

"God, Hermione," he chuckled softly into her ear. "Stop analyzing everything, would you?"

And he kissed her once again, very chastely, very tenderly. She inhaled the smell of his aftershave and suddenly felt very glad his hands were supporting her if not she knew for sure, she'd just fall down. Or melt into a puddle of mush on the floor...damn all these sappy and sentimental notions flooding her brain! She wasn't...she wasn't...and Hermione found she could no longer form coherent thought. Entirely without her permission, her body had surrendered completely to the suave, charming, and delightfully manipulative-his hands were running down her back now and it felt _wonderful- _what was she saying again?

He ended the kiss and grinned down at her mischievously. "Guess you liked that, huh?"

"It's not a joke Draco!" she said as sternly as she could manage because she was feeling rather breathless and also, still very comfortable in his embrace.

Draco let his lips brush against her forehead. "Course, Hermione. I'm entirely, entirely serious."

"Oh." He was serious. In every other context, the sentence would be seen as insignificant and mundane, but to her they were the most glorious three words she'd ever heard. She felt herself leaning into him. So many times had they stood, clasped together in each other's arms back in the dance studio, but Hermione had never felt more at home, never felt more beautiful than she did right then, in the middle of the Meeting Place in the dead of night, clad in her fuzzy dressing robe.

"I'm serious too," she felt she ought to inform him.

"Mmm," Draco murmured inconsequentially. He pulled away from her, and she was suddenly very aware of the absence of his touch. However, Hermione also managed to notice he was keeping a very firm hold on her hand.

"Thought you might want to sit," Draco explained, tugging her towards the roomiest white sofa.

"That's really thoughtful of you!" The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them. Hermione fervently hoped he realised she was being sincere, not sarcastic.

He smiled wryly at her. "I try, really I do."

Draco then plumped up the cushions so they were nice and soft and springy. He stretched out comfortably on the settee, which surprisingly managed to accommodate the length of his towering frame. Realising Hermione was still standing and staring, he pulled her down so that she was perched at the end of the settee.

"What're you doing?" Hermione asked nervously, experiencing an odd thrill of being in such close proximity to him and reveling ever so slightly in the unadulterated intimacy of their position. Draco seemed pretty unperturbed.

"Trying to sleep," he said, as if stating the obvious. "You're not going to planning to stay up all night are you?"

"No," Hermione said, feeling a bit foolish. She wiggled round a bit and then finally lay down beside Draco, turning her body away from him.

"Not shy, are you?" he teased. Hermione imagined him having a very silly grin on his face, enjoying taking the mickey out of her. Somehow the image had her nettled and caused her to shift herself round to face him and jab him hard in the chest.

"No, you numbskull!" She sat up and looked down at his annoyingly tranquil expression.

" You lured me into a false sense of security with cookies and my favourite drink and reduced me to bumbling, confused, flustered mess. It's not fair that you're so slick with your words...It's your fault! You halfwit-"

"I'm beg to differ," he interjected.

"-crafty,"

"Well, I am a Slytherin."

"-puffed up, smarmy, with the brains of a Nargle-"

"I came in second after you for our year end exams remember." He saw fit to remind her.

"Arrogant, mean, twerp!" She finished off triumphantly, her shoulders heaving as if she had been relieved of some heavy burden.

Draco just smiled up indulgently at her. "But you like me all the same, don't you."

"W-we-well," she stuttered. Honestly, it didn't feel like a question, more towards a statement. But either way, it would have been very mean and definitely impolite to answer with anything other than assent. And damn. His smile was completely undoing her. It was so sincere and beatific. Making her feel like a second year with her first crush. She had to say yes...any other response would be so_ disappointing_, really.

"I guess," Hermione said shyly.

She was rewarded with the look of seraphic contentment that graced his face.

"Thought so," he said smugly, satisfied. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her down towards him, not giving her any time to react or voice protest. She decided not to make a scene and acquiesced, lying down beside him. She found that there was in fact, plenty of room.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he murmured.

Hermione relaxed, quickly growing accustomed to the feeling of his arm draped over her, his body resting easily against hers. It was actually rather comfortable. She snuggled a bit closer to him and rested her head on his chest. She could hear the rhythmic thudding of his heart, calming her, lulling her to sleep. She could get used to this.

The minutes ticked by. Her eyelids were drooping, heavy with sleep. She marveled at the day's events. It had all happened so quickly. Them, their feelings, their friendship...which wasn't quite that much of a friendship anymore. Or maybe it hadn't been so quick at all. Maybe unknowingly, she had already fallen for him, right back when, when she had fallen on him during their very first dance class. Maybe love had stealthily crept in like a cloaked shadow in the night, bleeding into the pages of their days, melding into the saga that was their relationship. Maybe the feeling had presented itself when she first saw him dance...or when she met him unguarded and unmasked in the lonely hours of the night...or when he whispered into her ear huskily right before they had to perform onstage. Or maybe, she had liked him all along. She moved slightly in Draco's embrace, his arms heavy around her. Then she wondered briefly whether Draco was still awake. She decided that it didn't matter and she was too lazy to lift up her head to see his face. And she had a slight inkling that if she did, she'd probably just start snogging him all over again, and Merlin knows whether they'd get any sleep then. So she closed her eyes.

"Night, Draco," she muttered blearily, breathing his name with a soft sigh.


	17. Five Points To Gryffindor

**AN**: Sorry for the delay! Been having (still having) exams, they're such a pain. This will be a short chapter, just a bit of fluff between our dear Draco and Hermione! Next chapter will be the competition, a whole lot more substance and an interesting read, i assure you, so watch this space!

**Reviews: **Will reply your reviews individually next round, promise! Am really busy, and rushed to get this out. But thank you all for your lovely responses, and keep reviewing!

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**Chapter 16. Five Points To Gryffindor**

Draco was not a romantic. He never had pegged himself down as the type of bloke who'd pen down sentimental love letters and poems and deliver them to his beloved's doorstep. Sure, he was debonair, fetching and an all round charmer, but he wasn't a sap. Definitely not. That was what Draco told himself as he padded down the hallway with a purple tulip dangling loosely from his hand and the intentions of walking Hermione to breakfast.

He was, on the whole, rather pleased with the events of the night. Though there had been moments where there was the frightening possibility that Hermione would be his first brush with unrequited affections, in the end it had all worked out to his liking. At first he was afraid she would not come and he would have to finish his cookies alone and have a solitary sleep, but Hermione, perhaps having come to her senses, turned up after all and snogged him _senseless_. Well, before the kissing she had been scarily ambiguous about her intentions and had gotten him seriously worried. He'd surprised himself with how gutted he felt when it occurred to him that Hermione might not reciprocate his feelings. But, he needn't have fretted. They had proceeded to snog some more, not passionately, but with the promise of more to come. They had fallen asleep together on the white settee...which was now elevated to the prestigious status of his favourite couch.

It was at this point in his musings where Draco had to firmly reassure himself he was not a sap.

After a long, dreamless night, both of them had woken up at the crack of dawn and had crept back to their beds, exchanging soft smiles and glances full of meaning. And Draco, instead of succumbing to sleep once again, had gone out to nick flowers from the garden to present to her. Hence, his current position.

Continuing in his undignified trudge down the hallway, Draco pondered. At the back of his mind, he knew that Hermione meant something. She was different. He'd always been able to sweep ladies off their feet, no problem. It wasn't arrogance, as Hermione always so nastily put it, it was an awareness of how he was dripping with brilliance and charm. But just then, he was learning that doing something because he _could_, and doing something because he _wanted_ to wasn't really the same. In fact, he found that it made all the difference in the world. So that was why, even with his well bred, self assured and chivalrous demanour, dashing looks, and stolen purple tulip, he was feeling a tad bit more nervous that he was used to when it came to consorting with the ladies.

He paused in front of the portrait, feeling a bit unsure of what to do. The imposing lady in the picture stared straight back at him, before taking a dainty sip of tea. Draco decided the way to go was the only way he knew how- demanding.

"Open up," he commanded imperiously.

The lady in the portrait did nothing except take another tiny mouthful of tea ever so delicately. Draco scowled at her.

"Open up," he repeated.

"It doesn't work that way, lad," she said haughtily.

"Then how am I supposed to get in?" Draco retorted defensively, annoyed at being called a "lad", as if he were still some stripling running amuck in Hogwarts.

"What's the password?" She was looking at him disdainfully, as if he were a creature that had just crawled out of Hogs Head. (an incredibly iffy bar, in Draco's expert opinion)

"How would I know?"

"No password, no entrance."

Draco decided to give it a go.

"Bookworm."

"No."

"Gryffindor."

The lady in the portrait shook her head patronizingly.

"Uh...muggle studies? Ancient Runes? Weasleys?" he said, spouting off names at random. He then thought of the little Weasley's supposed crush on Scarboy. "The Boy Who Lived To Be My Hero...Boy Who Lived To Catch The Snitch? The Boy Who Lived To Snog My Pants Off? Lighting bolt scars are attractive?" Alright, maybe not. "Dumbledore? Never tickle a sleeping dragon? Severus Snape needs shampoo? Oh, come on! How many words are there?"

The portrait remained impassive. It said not a word, nor did it swing forward.

"Draco Malfoy," he tried lazily, not expecting his shot in the dark to produce any result, but it seemed that he hit the nail on the head. The lady in the portrait was giving him a sly, sideway look. her eyes slightly slanted in concentration.

"So you're Draco..." she said curiously.

"What, is that the password?" Draco questioned hopefully, surprised and tickled pink that the girls would choose his name as their password. He smirked inwardly,

"No," the portrait returned. "I've just heard a lot about you, that's all."

"Hermione and Little Red talk about me?" The carefully nonchalant tone.

"Don't be too flattered," she said, eyeing him and then blurted, as if she couldn't help herself. "Were you ever turned into, say, a ferret?"

Ah. Inspiration struck. His inward smirk faded and his eyes narrowed.

"Is the password Twitchy Little Ferret?"

Silence. He guessed not, but he was quite sure he was on the right track.

"Ferretboy? The Amazing," he winced at what this was doing to his pride. "Bouncing Ferret?"

"Oh all right," the lady sighed, seemingly tired of him. "Go on in... " The portrait swung wide open, giving him clearance.

Draco clambered through the portrait hole, only to come face to face with Hermione. She was clad in muggle clothes, baggy grey sweatpants and a skin tight tank top that clung to her curves. Although she smiled prettily, she seemed rather shocked to see him.

"Draco!" she exclaimed. "I was just about to leave...how did you get in here? Did our portrait let you in? Did you guess the password?"

"Yes," he drawled. "Took a wild guess, and lo and behold."

Hermione had the grace to blush and look abashed. Satisfied that he had managed to unsettle her once again, Draco unceremoniously handed her the flower. She looked pleasantly startled and accepted it.

"Thanks. It's, well, it's lovely."

"Just like your password," Draco returned sharply, not swayed by her thanks.

"Honestly Draco! It's just a password..." she trailed off, quailing at the glare he was giving her and finished her sentence hastily. "Fine, I'll change it."

He smirked triumphantly. "I think it should be Draco the Shag-able."

Hermione laughed, bringing the flower to her nose, giving it a dainty sniff. "I don't think that'll fly with Ginny. But I'm _all _for it, Draco, seriously."

"Or Draco the Irresistible. Or," he suggested, unperturbed by her sarcasm and giving it some good thought. "Draco the-"

"-Supercilious git." Draco saw Ginny emerge from the bathroom out of his peripheral vision, dressed in a dance leotard and track pants, her hair still slightly damp. "You're right, Hermione, somehow having to say 'Draco is an absolute babe' every time I entered the room would be a complete downer for me."

"Good morning to you too, Weaslette," he said rather charitably.

"Don't be so harsh, Ginny," Hermione admonished. "Perhaps, Draco the Rapscallion would be more fitting."

Ginny looked at both of them rather appraisingly. Her eyes flickered from his impassive face, to the purple tulip, to Hermione's tinged pink cheeks, which were a dead giveaway. Her face lit up as realisation dawned.

"O-o-ohhhh," she breathed. "Oh, oh, oh!"

"You can close your mouth now you know," Draco snipped irritably, knowing that Weasley had figured out that he and Hermione were... well, were whatever they were. He himself didn't quite know for sure yet. "Though it would be rather fortuitous for the rest of us if you didn't. Perhaps your face'll freeze right there in that unattractive position, and we'll all be able to have a good laugh and you'll never get to snog Potter."

"Come of it, Malfoy," Hermione said, looking annoyed.

Ginny, however, didn't seem to be offended. Instead she grinned knowingly at the pair of them, and promptly apparated with a loud crack.

Hermione groaned.

"She knows."

"Way to state the obvious, Granger."

"Are we back to last names now?" She grinned mischievously. Merlin help him!

"I'm not going to deign that question with a response," he returned loftily.

"Wasn't that a response in itself?"

Damn her. Draco decided to ignore her astute observation. "Let's go for breakfast," he snapped, cringing at how distastefully common he sounded.

"All right." She sounded faintly amused.

"Wasn't supposed to sound like that," Draco admitted, quite fed up with himself.

"I see," Hermione murmured, crossing the spacious room to her bedside table, her back facing him. Draco couldn't help but admire the way she moved, with a dancer's grace and poise. She brought out her wand, and muttered a quick incantation under her breath. Draco saw her place the purple tulip in a small glass vase that hadn't been there before. She must have transfigured something. "What was it supposed to be like then?" she questioned, walking back over to him.

"Well," Draco flashed her his most winning smile, relieved that once again he was able to adopt his charming persona. "I was supposed to enter your room gallantly, having guessed your password to be something rather flattering, like Draco The Amazing, not Draco the Amazing Bouncing Ferret or whatever else you put. The She Weasel would have been stuck in the bathroom or off to the dining hall already, leaving you alone in the room. Gracefully, I would greet you good morning and hand you the flower. You would be completely swept off your feet, won over by my display of affection. I would drop a quick kiss on your lips...which would definitely have escalated to something more," at this he grinned at her unashamedly. "And we would have happily moseyed down for breakfast together."

Hermione looked thoughtful and stepped closer to him until she was merely a few inches away.

"Draco," she said shyly. "You don't need a purple tulip to sweep me off my feet."

Draco was well pleased by her admission. "Now that is a delightful thing to hear," he replied softly. "I dare say you'd like your kiss now?"

"Yes, very much."

He tilted her head up to meet his with the tips of his fingers, and pressed his lips against hers. The soft, girlish scent of vanilla wafted past him, and the voice of reason telling him if this continued they'd miss breakfast entirely, led him to make the decision not to prolong the kiss. Draco pulled away gently, reluctantly.

"If we keep this up," he whispered in her ear, "We'd never make it out of here."

Hermione let out a quiet laugh. "Too right you are... shall we?" She motioned to the portrait hole.

"After you," Draco replied, ever the gentleman, gesturing for her to go first.

"I see that your mother did a good job in bringing you up," Hermione teased, climbing out of the portrait hole without much difficulty. Draco quickly hopped out after her.

"Yes, the most part of my childhood was spent learning how to behave in a manner befitting my status," he said snottily, putting on mock airs. "I always spent my afternoons being taught the different ways to properly hold your utensils to eat peas, soup and pudding and God forbid I put the fork tines facing upwards because my dear mother said they must always, always,_ always_ rest on the plate by the tips."

She laughed as she turned to walk. It was a pleasant, bubbly sound.

"That must have made for a very exciting childhood," she giggled.

"Never a dull moment," he returned in kind. "You're one to talk, anyway. I would conjure up an image of a swotty eight year old with bushy brown pigtails holed up in her room with thick tomes of muggle books, and Merlin knows how that paints a picture of an intrepid kid."

"That's a whole load of malarkey, Draco Malfoy! I'll have you know I had a childhood of the most adventurous sort!"

Draco found that extremely amusing. "Oh really? Pray tell."

"I climbed the tree in my backyard," she announced with an air of great importance.

"You climbed trees," he repeated, snickering. "What a daredevil, Hermione, you've well and truly outdone yourself."

She looked a bit miffed. "Well, if you must know, I'd always wanted to live in a treehouse after I read The Other Side of The Mountain...it's a muggle book, Draco. Fancied it'd be a good bit of fun, roughing it out in the woods, braving the elements."

"I've never even considered anything like that. Ever," he replied, fairly scandalized that someone would consider living with critters and dirt and muck _fun_.

Hermione looked at him with laughter in her eyes. "That's because you're spoiled," she informed him.

"Tell me something I don't know," Draco teased.

"Trust me, you'd not want that. It'd take forever, seeing as you don't know anything."

"Thanks, I adore you too," Draco replied scathingly, and she chuckled softly in response.

They lapsed into comfortable silence. Draco fell in step with her, noticing how his pace matched her's exactly. Right. Left. Right. Left. He adjusted the length of his stride so that he wouldn't go ahead of her. Right. Left. Right. Left. He saw her hand swinging unconsciously, in opposition to her gait. Left. Right. Left. Right. Reaching out, he loosely laced his fingers with hers, holding her hand in a light grip, keeping his eyes trained on their feet, still treading along in unison. Right. Left. Right. Left. He felt her squeeze his hand, ever so slightly. Draco looked up, steely gray eyes meeting warm chocolate brown. They smiled at each other. And continued walking.

* * *

"Draco..." Hermione hissed. She was half exasperated, half amused and half heartedly trying to discreetly move his hand away, which was resting on her legs.

Draco just grinned smugly to himself and placed his hand right back. They were having another one of those briefings in the Meeting Place concerning their next round of competition, the line up and all the nitty gritty details that honestly, bored him to bits. So he was content to trail his fingers gently along Hermione's thigh, tracing figures and words onto her silky smooth skin, exposed by the pair of deliciously short shorts she was wearing. His other arm was wrapped snugly around her waist. Both he and Hermione weren't prone to overt displays of affection in public, but seeing as they were seated right at the back on their settee, out of most people's line of vision, he didn't see a problem. They held hands while walking around sometimes, and a chaste goodnight kiss on the lips after he chivalrously walked her back to her rooms preceded a steamy night on their settee, their tradition of sneaking out remaining unbroken. A day into their newfound relationship, and nothing went unnoticed. They didn't flaunt it (even though Draco seriously wouldn't be fussed if they did) and yet, the dancers latched onto this fascinating detail-Draco and Hermione were _actually holding hands_- and spun their own versions of what had transpired between them. Draco was accustomed to being the subject of gossip, and was neither bothered nor flattered. He noticed Hermione found it rather annoying. However it happened, at the end of Day 1 of their newfound relationship, everyone somehow knew they were together.

He smiled unwittingly, mulling over the evolution of their relationship, the evolution that had undeniably taken place in a very very short span of time, but and evolution nevertheless. He ghosted a finger lazily over Hermione's skin. Mine, he wrote. And then he hastily brushed it away as if her skin was a chalkboard where mushy sentiments could be erased, and scrawled, frizz head. Then, he felt bad and promptly followed with But You're Gorgeous Anyway.

"It's ticklish!" Hermione whispered, squirming.

Draco only tightened his grip around her waist and continued to ghost his nimble fingers on her thigh to form inconsequential words and sentences.

"Not to mention distracting!" she continued to lecture in a hushed undertone. "We need to pay attention to what Elphie is saying! It's important." She inclined her head towards the front of the room, where their instructor and host, clad in maroon wizards robes, was talking animatedly.

He nipped her ear, and she uttered a soft squeal. "Draco..."

"Hush," he reprimanded mockingly. "Careful, you might actually sound like you're enjoying this."

She glared at him.

"Anyway, she's been repeating this speech ever since we've joined the damn competition. It never changes. We already know we're going first. The rest is absolutely redundant," he reasoned logically. With Hermione, logic was the way to go. "We're not the only ones fooling around. Look." He nudged her to look at the Weaselette, who was unashamedly, though rather discreetly, flipping through the latest issue of Witches Weekly. Next to her was Hermione's old partner Sean who was very clearly asleep. Iris and Blaise were blatantly ignoring the fact that everyone else was with their dancing partners, and were seated so closely together and draped all over each other such that you couldn't tell where Blaise ended and Iris began...

"Ewww," Hermione breathed, obviously looking in Blaise's and Iris's direction along with him.

"Aren't you glad we have more class?"

"Significantly," she informed him, somewhat wryly. "I wonder why Elphie doesn't call them out on it. They're acting like a couple of desperate teenagers, and what more, in an obvious defiance of authority! And plus, it's disgusting." She made a face, looking much like she had eaten a exceptionally sour lemon.

"You look like Pansy when you screw up your face like that," he said, just to provoke her, and after choking back laughter at her horrified expression, swiftly revoked his statement. "Kidding."

"You arse!"

"Language, Ms Granger."

"I've learnt from the best, Malfoy."

At this, Draco found that he couldn't, or rather, he didn't want to rebut.

"That's the perfect answer," he grinned, and couldn't resist dropping a kiss on her nose. "Five points to Gryffindor."


End file.
